The Immediate Shock and Fear of the Bondi Attack Is Giving Way to Anger and Discord. We Must Seek Out the Light.

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

It would be a significant understatement to describe the national disposition after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah celebrations as one of simple discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tone of initial surprise, sorrow and horror is shifting to fury and bitter division.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced fears of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic official fight against antisemitism with the right to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a moment for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so sorely depleted. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and dread of faith-based persecution on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the algorithms keep churning out at us the banal hot takes of those with inflammatory, polarizing views but little understanding at all of that profound vulnerability.

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

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such profound instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – law enforcement and paramedics, those who ran towards the gunfire to help fellow humans, some recognised but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of community, faith-based and ethnic solidarity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a message of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a time of targeted violence.

In keeping with the symbolism of the Festival of Lights (light amid gloom), there was so much appropriate evocation of the need for hope.

Unity, hope and compassion was the essence of faith.

And yet elements of the Australian polity responded so nauseatingly quickly with division, blame and accusation.

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

Observe the harmful rhetoric of division from longstanding agitators of Australian racial division, exploiting the massacre before the site was even cold. Then consider the words of leadership aspirants while the investigation was still active.

Government has a formidable task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the hope and, importantly, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as likely, did such a large public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly insufficient protection? Like how could the accused attackers have six guns in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and consistently alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

How quickly we were treated to that cliched line (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not guns that kill. Of course, each point are true. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent firearms away from its possible actors.

In this city of profound beauty, of clear blue heavens above ocean and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our communal areas – may not seem entirely familiar again to the many who’ve noted that famous Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific violence.

We yearn right now for comprehension and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the consolation of beauty in art or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling Christmas party plans. Quiet contemplation will seem more in order.

But this is perhaps somewhat against instinct. For in these days of fear, anger, melancholy, bewilderment and grief we require each other more than ever.

The reassurance of togetherness – the human glue of the unity in the very word – is what we probably need most.

But tragically, all of the portents are that cohesion in politics and the community will be hard to find this extended, draining summer.