The Immediate Impact and Terror of the Bondi Attack Is Giving Way to Anger and Division. It Is Imperative We Seek Out the Light.

While the nation winds down for a customary Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the nation's summer atmosphere feels, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a dramatic understatement to characterize the national disposition after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tone of immediate surprise, sorrow and terror is segueing to anger and deep division.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, vigorous government and institutional crackdown against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to demonstrate against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so sorely depleted. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have experienced the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic targeting on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the trite instant opinions of those with blistering, polarizing views but little understanding at all of that profound vulnerability.

This is a time when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in humanity – in our capacity for compassion – has failed us so painfully. Something else, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme examples of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. First responders – law enforcement and paramedics, those who ran towards the danger to help others, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unheralded.

When the police tape still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the necessity of social, religious and ethnic unity was laudably promoted by religious figures. It was a message of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a moment of targeted violence.

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

Unity, light and compassion was the essence of belief.

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

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

Observe the harmful message of disunity from veteran agitators of Australian racial division, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the statements of leadership aspirants while the investigation was still active.

Politics has a daunting task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is mourning and scared and seeking the hope and, importantly, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as probable, did such a significant public Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the family home when the domestic intelligence organisation has so openly and consistently warned of the threat of targeted attacks?

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

In this city of profound beauty, of clear azure skies above sea and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not look entirely familiar again to the many who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We yearn right now for understanding and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the consolation of beauty in art or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling holiday gathering plans. Reflective solitude will feel more appropriate.

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

The comfort 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 unity in public life and society will be hard to find this long, draining summer.