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

As Australia winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of beach and scorching heat set to the background of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the nation's summer atmosphere feels, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a significant oversimplification to characterize the collective disposition after the anti-Jewish terrorist attack on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of simple discontent.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tone of initial shock, grief and terror is shifting to anger and deep polarization.

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed fears of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Just as, they are sensitive to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, energetic official crackdown against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so deeply diminished. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic targeting on this continent or anywhere else.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the banal instant opinions of those with inflammatory, divisive views but no sense at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a time when I lament not having a greater spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in humanity – in our capacity for compassion – has failed us so acutely. A different source, something higher, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – police officers and medical staff, those who charged into the gunfire to help fellow humans, some publicly hailed but for the most part unnamed and unsung.

When the barrier cordon still waved wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, religious and ethnic unity was admirably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of love and tolerance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Unity, light and love was the essence of faith.

And yet segments of the Australian polity responded so disgustingly swiftly with fragmentation, finger-pointing and accusation.

Some elected officials moved straight for the pessimism, using the atrocity as a cynical chance to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the dangerous message of disunity from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, exploiting the attack before the site was even cold. Then read the words of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Politics has a formidable task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and frightened and looking for the hope and, importantly, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as probable, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly insufficient security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the security agency has so publicly and consistently alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

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

In this metropolis of profound beauty, of pristine blue heavens above ocean and sand, the water and the beaches – our shared community spaces – may not seem quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

We yearn right now for comprehension and significance, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or nature.

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

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of fear, outrage, melancholy, bewilderment and grief we require each other more than ever.

The comfort of community – 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, draining summer.