The Initial Impact and Terror of the Bondi Shooting Is Giving Way to Rage and Discord. It Is Imperative We Look For the Hope.

While Australia winds down for a customary Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of beach and scorching heat set to the background of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the nation's summer mood seems, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a significant understatement to describe the collective temperament after the antisemitic violent assault on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of simple discontent.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of initial shock, sorrow and terror is segueing to anger and deep division.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced concerns of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Similarly, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, energetic official crackdown against anti-Jewish hatred with the right to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so deeply depleted. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have experienced the animosity and dread of faith-based targeting on this continent or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the trite hot takes of those with blistering, divisive stances but little understanding at all of that profound fragility.

This is a time when I lament not having a stronger faith. I mourn, because having faith in people – in our capacity for compassion – has failed us so acutely. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – police officers and paramedics, those who ran towards the gunfire to help others, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unheralded.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of community, religious and ethnic solidarity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of love and tolerance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a moment of targeted violence.

In keeping with the meaning of Hanukah (light amid gloom), there was so much fitting reference of the need for lightness.

Unity, hope and compassion was the message of faith.

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

Some politicians gravitated straight for the pessimism, using tragedy as a cynical opportunity to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the harmful message of division from longstanding fomenters of Australian racial division, exploiting the attack before the crime scene 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 large public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly insufficient protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and consistently alerted of the threat of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired argument (or versions of it) that it’s people not guns that kill. Of course, each point are valid. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to prevent violent bigotry and keep firearms away from its potential actors.

In this city of immense splendor, of pristine azure skies above sea and sand, the water and the beaches – our shared community spaces – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We long right now for comprehension and significance, for loved ones, and perhaps for the consolation of aesthetics in culture or nature.

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

But this is perhaps counterintuitively counterintuitive. For in these times of anxiety, anger, sadness, bewilderment and loss we require each other more than ever.

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

But sadly, all of the indicators are that unity in public life and society will be hard to find this long, draining summer.