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

As Australia settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday during languorous days of beach and scorching heat set to the background of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the nation's summer atmosphere seems, sadly, like no other.

It would be a significant oversimplification to describe the collective temperament after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of simple ennui.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate shock, grief and terror is segueing to anger and bitter polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed concerns of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, vigorous official crackdown against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in humanity is so deeply diminished. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have experienced the hatred and fear of faith-based targeting on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the trite hot takes of those with blistering, divisive stances but no sense at all of that profound vulnerability.

This is a period when I lament not having a stronger faith. I mourn, because having faith in humanity – in our capacity for compassion – has failed us so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such extreme instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – law enforcement and medical staff, those who charged into the danger to aid others, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the police tape still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, faith-based and cultural solidarity was laudably championed by religious figures. It was a call of compassion and acceptance – of unifying rather than dividing in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

Consistent with the meaning of the Festival of Lights (illumination amid gloom), there was so much fitting evocation of the need for lightness.

Togetherness, hope and compassion was the essence of belief.

And yet segments of the political landscape reacted so nauseatingly quickly with fragmentation, finger-pointing and accusation.

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

Witness the harmful rhetoric of disunity from veteran fomenters of societal discord, exploiting the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Government has a daunting job to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and frightened and looking for the hope and, importantly, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as probable, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient protection? Like how could the accused attackers have six guns in the family home when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and repeatedly alerted of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How quickly we were subjected to that cliched line (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that cause death. Of course, both things are valid. It’s feasible to simultaneously pursue new ways to stop hate-fuelled violence and keep guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this metropolis of immense beauty, of pristine blue heavens above sea and shore, the water and the beaches – 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 obscene violence.

We long right now for comprehension and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the consolation of beauty in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Reflective solitude will seem more appropriate.

But this is perhaps counterintuitively against instinct. For in these days of anxiety, anger, melancholy, bewilderment and loss we require each other now more than ever.

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

But tragically, all of the portents are that cohesion in politics and society will be elusive this extended, draining summer.