The Initial Impact and Terror of the Bondi Attack Is Transitioning to Anger and Discord. We Must Look For the Hope.

As the nation settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and blistering heat accompanied by the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere feels, sadly, like none before.

It would be a significant understatement to describe the national temperament after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tone of initial shock, grief and horror is shifting to fury and deep division.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Similarly, they are sensitive to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, vigorous official crackdown against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a moment 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 hatred and dread of faith-based persecution on this land or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal hot takes of those with blistering, polarizing stances but no sense at all of that profound fragility.

This is a period when I regret not having a greater faith. I mourn, because having faith in people – in mankind’s potential for compassion – has let us down so acutely. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have seen such extreme examples of human decency. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. First responders – police officers and medical staff, those who ran towards the danger to help fellow humans, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of social, religious and cultural solidarity was admirably promoted by faith leaders. It was a message of love and acceptance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Unity, hope and compassion was the essence of faith.

And yet segments of the political landscape responded so disgustingly quickly with division, blame and accusation.

Some politicians moved straight for the pessimism, using the atrocity as a cynical chance to question Australia’s migration rules.

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

Government has a daunting task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning and scared and seeking the hope and, not least, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as likely, did such a significant public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a woefully inadequate protection? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and repeatedly alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were subjected to that tired argument (or iterations of it) that it’s people not guns that cause death. Naturally, each point are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and keep firearms away from its possible perpetrators.

In this city of immense splendor, of clear blue heavens above ocean and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not seem quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that famous Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific violence.

We yearn right now for comprehension and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or nature.

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

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of fear, outrage, sadness, confusion and loss we require each other now 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 cohesion in politics and the community will be hard to find this extended, draining summer.