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

As the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday during 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, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a significant understatement to characterize the national temperament after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere discontent.

Throughout the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of initial shock, sorrow and horror is segueing to fury and bitter division.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a far more urgent, energetic government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism 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 humanity is so deeply depleted. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic persecution on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the algorithms keep churning out at us the trite instant opinions of those with blistering, polarizing views but no sense at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a time when I regret not having a stronger spiritual belief. I lament, because having faith in people – in mankind’s capacity for compassion – has let us down so painfully. Something else, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have seen such extreme examples of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – police officers and paramedics, those who charged into the danger to help fellow humans, some recognised but for the most part anonymous and unheralded.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the necessity of social, faith-based and ethnic unity was laudably promoted by religious figures. It was a message of compassion and acceptance – 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 reference of the need for lightness.

Togetherness, light and love was the essence of faith.

And yet segments of the Australian polity responded so disgustingly quickly with fragmentation, blame and recrimination.

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the darkness, using tragedy as a calculating chance to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the dangerous rhetoric of disunity from veteran agitators of societal discord, exploiting the massacre before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of political figures while the probe was ongoing.

Government has a formidable task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and frightened and seeking the light and, not least, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as likely, did such a significant open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully inadequate protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly warned of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How quickly we were treated to that cliched argument (or versions of it) that it’s people not guns that cause death. Of course, both things are true. It’s feasible to at the same time pursue new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and keep guns away from its possible actors.

In this city of immense beauty, of pristine blue heavens above sea and shore, the water and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific violence.

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

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

But this is perhaps counterintuitively against instinct. For in these times of anxiety, outrage, sadness, confusion and grief we require each other now more than ever.

The comfort of community – 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 public life and the community will be elusive this extended, enervating summer.