The Initial Shock and Fear of the Bondi Shooting Is Transitioning to Anger and Division. We Must Seek Out the Light.

While the nation winds down for a customary Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and scorching heat accompanied by the background of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the nation's summer atmosphere seems, sadly, like none before.

It would be a significant understatement to characterize the national temperament after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during Bondi Hanukah festivities as one of simple ennui.

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

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed concerns of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic official crackdown against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

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

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

This is a period when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I mourn, because having faith in people – in our capacity for kindness – has let us down so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is needed.

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

When the police tape still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, religious and ethnic unity was laudably championed by religious figures. It was a call of love and tolerance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a moment of targeted violence.

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

Togetherness, hope and compassion was the message of belief.

And yet segments of the Australian polity reacted so disgustingly quickly with division, finger-pointing and recrimination.

Some politicians moved straight for the pessimism, using the atrocity as a calculating chance to question Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous message of division from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the site was even cold. Then consider the words of political figures while the investigation was ongoing.

Government has a formidable job to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and scared and looking for the light and, not least, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as likely, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so publicly and repeatedly warned of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired line (or iterations of it) that it’s people not weapons that cause death. Of course, both things are true. It’s possible to at the same time pursue new ways to stop hate-fuelled violence and prevent firearms away from its possible actors.

In this city of profound beauty, of pristine azure skies above sea and sand, the water and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not seem quite the same again to the many who’ve noted that famous Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific violence.

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

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

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

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