The Initial Shock and Fear of the Bondi Shooting Is Giving Way to Anger and Discord. It Is Imperative We Seek Out the Hope.

As the nation settles into for a customary Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of coast and blistering heat accompanied by the background of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the country’s summer mood seems, sadly, like none before.

It would be a dramatic understatement to describe the collective disposition after the antisemitic terrorist attack on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of simple discontent.

Across the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of initial surprise, grief and horror is shifting to fury and bitter polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed fears of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, energetic government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a moment for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so deeply depleted. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and dread of religious and ethnic persecution on this continent or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep churning out at us the banal instant opinions of those with blistering, polarizing stances but little understanding at all of that profound vulnerability.

This is a period when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I lament, because having faith in humanity – in our potential for kindness – has failed us so painfully. Something else, a greater power, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such profound examples of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – law enforcement and paramedics, those who ran towards the gunfire to aid others, some publicly hailed but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of social, religious and cultural solidarity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a message of love and tolerance – of unifying rather than dividing in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

Consistent with the symbolism of Hanukah (illumination amid darkness), there was so much fitting reference of the need for lightness.

Togetherness, hope and love was the essence of faith.

And yet segments of the Australian polity responded so nauseatingly swiftly with fragmentation, finger-pointing and accusation.

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the darkness, using the atrocity as a calculating opportunity to challenge Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous message of division from longstanding agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the statements of political figures while the investigation was ongoing.

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

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as probable, did such a large open-air Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a woefully inadequate security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so openly and consistently warned of the danger of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were subjected to that cliched argument (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not guns that cause death. Of course, each point are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and keep guns away from its potential actors.

In this metropolis of profound beauty, of pristine azure skies above sea and shore, the ocean and the beaches – our communal areas – may not seem quite the same again to the many who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

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

This weekend many Australians are cancelling holiday gathering plans. Quiet contemplation will feel more in order.

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these times of anxiety, outrage, sadness, confusion and grief we need each other now more than ever.

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

But tragically, all of the indicators are that unity in politics and the community will be hard to find this long, draining summer.