The Initial Shock and Terror of the Bondi Shooting Is Transitioning to Anger and Division. We Must Seek Out the Hope.

As Australia winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and blistering heat accompanied by the background of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer mood seems, sadly, like no other.

It would be a significant oversimplification to characterize the national disposition after the antisemitic violent assault on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah festivities as one of simple discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tenor of initial surprise, sorrow and horror is segueing to fury and deep polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed fears of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Similarly, they are sensitive to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, vigorous official fight against antisemitism with the right to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so sorely diminished. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and fear of faith-based persecution on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep spewing at us the banal hot takes of those with blistering, divisive views but no sense at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a time when I regret not having a greater spiritual belief. I lament, because believing in humanity – in our potential for kindness – has let us down so painfully. Something else, something higher, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such extreme instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – police officers and medical staff, those who ran towards the gunfire to help fellow humans, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the barrier cordon still waved in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of community, religious and ethnic unity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than splitting apart in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

In keeping with the symbolism of Hanukah (light amid gloom), there was so much appropriate reference of the need for lightness.

Unity, light and love was the message of belief.

And yet segments of the political landscape reacted so disgustingly swiftly with fragmentation, blame and recrimination.

Some politicians gravitated straight for the pessimism, using tragedy as a calculating chance to question Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous rhetoric of division from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, exploiting the massacre before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the words of leadership aspirants while the probe was ongoing.

Politics has a daunting job to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and seeking the hope and, importantly, explanations to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as likely, did such a large open-air Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a woefully inadequate security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have six guns in the family home when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and repeatedly warned of the danger of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were subjected to that cliched line (or iterations of it) that it’s people not weapons that cause death. Of course, both things are valid. It’s feasible to at the same time pursue new ways to stop hate-fuelled violence and keep guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this metropolis of profound beauty, of clear azure skies above ocean and sand, the ocean and the beaches – our communal areas – may not seem entirely familiar again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We yearn right now for understanding and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the consolation of aesthetics in culture or nature.

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

But this is perhaps somewhat counterintuitive. For in these days of anxiety, outrage, sadness, confusion and grief 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 sadly, all of the indicators are that unity in public life and society will be hard to find this extended, draining summer.