The Immediate Shock and Terror of the Bondi Attack Is Transitioning to Rage and Division. We Must Look For the Light.

While Australia settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of coast and scorching heat set to the background of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the nation's summer mood feels, sadly, like no other.

It would be a dramatic understatement to describe the collective temperament after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of immediate shock, sorrow and terror is segueing to fury and deep polarization.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced fears of the Jewish community are now acutely aware. Just as, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic official fight against antisemitism with the freedom to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a moment for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in mankind is so deeply diminished. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the animosity and dread of faith-based persecution on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the banal hot takes of those with inflammatory, divisive views but no sense at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a time when I lament not having a stronger spiritual belief. I lament, because having faith in people – in mankind’s capacity for kindness – has let us down so painfully. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such profound instances of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – police officers and medical staff, those who ran towards the gunfire to help others, some recognised but for the most part unnamed and unsung.

When the police tape still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of social, faith-based and ethnic solidarity was laudably championed by religious figures. It was a message of compassion and acceptance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

Consistent with the symbolism of the Festival of Lights (light amid darkness), there was so much fitting evocation of the need for lightness.

Togetherness, light and compassion was the essence of faith.

And yet elements of the political landscape responded so nauseatingly swiftly with division, finger-pointing and accusation.

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the pessimism, using tragedy as a cynical chance to question Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the harmful rhetoric of division from veteran agitators of societal discord, exploiting the attack before the site was even cold. Then read the words of political figures while the investigation was still active.

Politics has a daunting task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the light and, importantly, answers to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as likely, did such a significant public Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and repeatedly warned of the threat of targeted attacks?

How quickly we were treated to that cliched argument (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that cause death. Of course, both things are valid. It’s possible to at the same time seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent firearms away from its potential actors.

In this city of profound splendor, of clear azure skies above sea and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not look entirely familiar again to the multitude who’ve observed that famous Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

We long right now for comprehension and significance, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or nature.

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Reflective solitude will feel more appropriate.

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these times of anxiety, anger, melancholy, confusion and grief we require each other more than ever.

The comfort of community – the human glue of the unity in the very word – is what we likely need most.

But sadly, all of the indicators are that cohesion in politics and society will be elusive this long, draining summer.