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

While Australia winds down for a customary Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere feels, sadly, like no other.

It would be a significant oversimplification to characterize the collective disposition after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of simple ennui.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of the nation's urban centers – a tone of initial surprise, sorrow and terror is shifting to anger and bitter division.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed concerns of the Jewish community are now acutely aware. Similarly, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic official crackdown against antisemitism with the right to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a moment for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in humanity is so deeply depleted. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have experienced the hatred and fear of faith-based targeting on this land or anywhere else.

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

This is a period when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I lament, because having faith in people – in our capacity for kindness – has failed us so painfully. A different source, something higher, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme examples of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – police officers and paramedics, those who ran towards the danger to aid 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, faith-based and cultural unity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a moment of targeted violence.

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

Togetherness, hope and love was the message of belief.

And yet elements of the political landscape reacted so nauseatingly swiftly with division, finger-pointing and recrimination.

Some politicians moved straight for the darkness, using tragedy as a cynical opportunity to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the harmful message of disunity from longstanding agitators of Australian racial division, exploiting the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Government has a daunting task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the hope and, not least, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as likely, did such a large open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient protection? Like how could the accused attackers have six guns in the residence when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired argument (or iterations of it) that it’s people not weapons that cause death. Naturally, each point are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously pursue new ways to prevent violent bigotry and prevent guns away from its possible actors.

In this city of immense beauty, of pristine blue heavens above sea and sand, the water and the beaches – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve observed that famous Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

We long right now for understanding and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling holiday gathering plans. Quiet contemplation will feel more appropriate.

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of anxiety, outrage, sadness, bewilderment and loss we require each other now more than ever.

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

But tragically, all of the indicators are that cohesion in public life and society will be hard to find this extended, enervating summer.