The Initial Impact and Terror of the Bondi Attack Is Transitioning to Rage and Discord. It Is Imperative We Look For the Light.

While the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of Test cricket and cicada song, this year the country’s summer mood seems, sadly, like no other.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to describe the national disposition after the antisemitic 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 the nation's urban centers – a tenor of initial surprise, sorrow and terror is segueing to fury and bitter polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced concerns of the Jewish community are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a far more urgent, energetic official crackdown against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against genocide.

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

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

This is a time when I lament not having a stronger faith. I lament, because believing in people – in mankind’s capacity for compassion – has failed us so painfully. A different source, a greater power, 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 selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – law enforcement and paramedics, those who ran towards the gunfire to aid fellow humans, some recognised but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the police tape still waved wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, religious and ethnic solidarity was admirably promoted by faith leaders. It was a call of love and acceptance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Togetherness, hope and love was the essence of faith.

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

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the darkness, using tragedy as a cynical chance to challenge Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the harmful message of division from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, exploiting the massacre before the site was even cold. Then consider the words of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Government has a formidable task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning and frightened and seeking 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 event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient protection? Like how could the alleged killers have six guns in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so openly and consistently warned of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired line (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not guns that kill. Of course, both things are true. It’s possible to simultaneously seek new ways to stop violent bigotry and prevent guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this city of profound beauty, of clear blue heavens above sea and shore, the ocean and the coastline – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We long right now for comprehension and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace 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 somewhat against instinct. For in these times of anxiety, anger, sadness, bewilderment and grief we need each other more than ever.

The comfort of community – the human glue of the unity in the very word – is what we probably need most.

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