The Immediate Impact and Terror of the Bondi Shooting Is Giving Way to Rage and Division. It Is Imperative We Look For the Light.

As Australia winds down for a customary Christmas holiday during slow-moving days of beach and blistering heat set to the background of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the country’s summer mood seems, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to characterize the national disposition after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during Bondi Hanukah festivities as one of mere ennui.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tone of initial shock, sorrow and horror is segueing to fury and bitter polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed fears of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a far more urgent, energetic government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against genocide.

If ever there was a moment for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so sorely diminished. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have experienced the hatred and fear of religious and ethnic targeting on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive stances but little understanding at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a time when I lament not having a greater 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 required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such profound instances of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – police officers and medical staff, those who ran towards the danger to aid 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 community, religious and cultural unity was admirably championed by religious figures. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a time of targeted violence.

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

Unity, light and compassion was the essence of belief.

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

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

Witness the dangerous rhetoric of disunity from veteran fomenters of societal discord, capitalizing on the massacre before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of political figures while the investigation was ongoing.

Politics has a daunting task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and scared and seeking the light and, importantly, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as probable, did such a large public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a woefully insufficient security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the domestic intelligence organisation has so openly and repeatedly warned of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that cliched line (or versions 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 violent bigotry and prevent guns away from its potential perpetrators.

In this city of immense beauty, of clear azure skies above ocean and sand, the ocean and the beaches – our shared community spaces – may not look 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 comprehension and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the consolation of beauty in art or nature.

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

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

The comfort 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 unity in politics and society will be elusive this long, enervating summer.