The Immediate Impact and Terror of the Bondi Attack Is Transitioning to Rage and Discord. It Is Imperative We Seek Out the Hope.

As Australia settles into for a customary Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of coast and scorching heat accompanied by the soundtrack 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 describe the collective disposition after the anti-Jewish terrorist attack on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of mere ennui.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tone of initial shock, grief and terror is shifting to anger and deep polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed concerns of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, vigorous government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism with the right to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in mankind is so sorely depleted. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and fear of faith-based persecution on this continent or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive views but no sense at all of that profound fragility.

This is a period when I lament not having a stronger faith. I lament, because believing in humanity – in our capacity for kindness – has let us down so acutely. Something else, a greater power, is needed.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – 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 waved wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, faith-based and cultural solidarity was admirably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

In keeping with the symbolism of the Festival of Lights (light amid gloom), there was so much appropriate evocation of the need for hope.

Togetherness, light and love was the message of faith.

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

Some politicians gravitated straight for the darkness, using the atrocity as a calculating opportunity to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the harmful message of disunity from veteran fomenters of Australian racial division, exploiting the massacre before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the words of political figures while the probe was ongoing.

Government has a daunting job to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the hope and, not least, answers to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as likely, did such a significant open-air Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly inadequate security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have six guns in the residence when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were subjected to that tired line (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that cause death. Of course, each point are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously pursue new ways to stop violent bigotry and keep guns away from its possible actors.

In this city of immense splendor, of clear azure skies above ocean and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that famous Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

We long right now for understanding and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the consolation of beauty in culture or nature.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling Christmas party plans. Quiet contemplation will seem more appropriate.

But this is perhaps counterintuitively counterintuitive. For in these times of anxiety, anger, sadness, bewilderment and loss we need each other more than ever.

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

But sadly, all of the indicators are that cohesion in public life and the community will be hard to find this extended, draining summer.