The Immediate Shock and Fear of the Bondi Shooting Is Giving Way to Anger and Discord. We Must Look For the Light.

As the nation winds down for a customary Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere seems, unfortunately, like none before.

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

Throughout the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate shock, grief and horror is shifting to fury and deep division.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, energetic government and institutional fight against antisemitism with the freedom to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so sorely diminished. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and fear of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or elsewhere.

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

This is a time when I lament not having a stronger faith. I lament, because believing in people – in mankind’s potential for compassion – has failed us so acutely. Something else, something higher, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme examples of human decency. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. First responders – law enforcement and paramedics, those who charged into the danger to help fellow humans, some publicly hailed but for the most part unnamed and unsung.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the necessity of community, religious and ethnic unity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of unifying rather than dividing in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

In keeping with the meaning of the Festival of Lights (light amid darkness), there was so much fitting reference of the need for hope.

Unity, light and love was the essence of faith.

And yet elements of the political landscape responded so disgustingly quickly with fragmentation, blame and accusation.

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

Observe the harmful message of disunity from veteran agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of leadership aspirants while the probe was still active.

Government has a daunting job to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and seeking the hope and, not least, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as probable, did such a significant open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly warned of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How quickly we were treated to that cliched argument (or versions 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 stop violent bigotry and prevent firearms away from its potential actors.

In this city of profound beauty, of pristine azure skies above ocean and shore, the ocean and the beaches – our shared community spaces – may not look entirely familiar again to the many who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We long right now for understanding and significance, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in art or the natural world.

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

But this is perhaps counterintuitively against instinct. For in these days of anxiety, outrage, 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 portents are that cohesion in public life and the community will be elusive this extended, enervating summer.