The Immediate Shock and Terror of the Bondi Attack Is Transitioning to Rage and Discord. We Must Look For the Light.

While the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of coast and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere seems, sadly, like none before.

It would be a significant understatement to describe the national disposition after the antisemitic terrorist attack on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah celebrations as one of simple ennui.

Across the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate surprise, sorrow and terror is segueing to fury and deep polarization.

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed fears of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic government and institutional fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the right to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a moment for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in mankind is so deeply depleted. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and dread of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal hot takes of those with inflammatory, divisive views but little understanding at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a period when I lament not having a stronger faith. I lament, because having faith in humanity – in our potential for compassion – has failed us so painfully. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such profound instances of human decency. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – law enforcement and paramedics, those who charged into the gunfire to aid fellow humans, some recognised but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the police tape still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, religious and cultural solidarity was admirably championed by religious figures. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Togetherness, hope and love was the essence of faith.

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

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the pessimism, using the atrocity as a calculating opportunity to question Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous rhetoric of disunity from veteran fomenters of Australian racial division, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the words of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Politics has a daunting task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the light and, importantly, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as likely, did such a significant public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully inadequate security presence? 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 threat of targeted attacks?

How quickly we were treated to that tired argument (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not guns that cause death. Of course, each point are valid. It’s possible to at the same time pursue new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent guns away from its possible actors.

In this metropolis of immense beauty, of clear blue heavens above sea and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the many who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We long right now for comprehension and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are calling off holiday gathering plans. Reflective solitude will feel more in order.

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

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

But sadly, all of the portents are that cohesion in politics and society will be hard to find this extended, enervating summer.