The Initial Shock and Fear of the Bondi Attack Is Transitioning to Rage and Discord. We Must Seek Out the Light.

While Australia winds down for a customary Christmas holiday during slow-moving days of beach and scorching heat accompanied by the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer atmosphere seems, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a dramatic understatement to characterize the national disposition after the antisemitic terrorist attack on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of mere discontent.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tone of immediate surprise, grief and terror is segueing to fury and bitter polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced fears of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, vigorous official fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our belief in mankind is so deeply depleted. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and fear of faith-based targeting on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep spewing at us the trite instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive stances but little understanding at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a time when I regret not having a stronger spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in people – in our potential for compassion – has failed us so painfully. Something else, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. First responders – law enforcement and medical staff, those who charged into the danger to help fellow humans, some publicly hailed but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, religious and ethnic solidarity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of compassion and acceptance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a time of targeted violence.

Consistent with the meaning of the Festival of Lights (light amid gloom), there was so much appropriate reference of the need for lightness.

Unity, hope and compassion was the essence of belief.

And yet segments of the political landscape responded so nauseatingly swiftly with division, finger-pointing and accusation.

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

Observe the dangerous rhetoric of disunity from longstanding fomenters of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the words of political figures while the probe was ongoing.

Politics has a daunting task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and scared and looking for the light and, importantly, answers to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as probable, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so publicly and consistently warned of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How quickly we were subjected to that cliched argument (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, each point are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously pursue new ways to stop violent bigotry and keep firearms away from its possible perpetrators.

In this metropolis of profound beauty, of clear blue heavens above sea and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not seem quite the same again to the many who’ve observed that famous Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene bloodshed.

We long right now for understanding and significance, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in art 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 fear, anger, sadness, confusion and loss we need each other now more than ever.

The reassurance of togetherness – 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 politics and society will be elusive this extended, enervating summer.