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As Australia winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of beach and scorching heat set to the background of sporting matches and cicada song, this year the country’s summer mood seems, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to describe the collective temperament after the anti-Jewish terrorist attack on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of simple ennui.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate surprise, sorrow and horror is shifting to anger and bitter polarization.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced fears of the Jewish community are now acutely aware. Just as, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a far more urgent, energetic official crackdown against antisemitism with the freedom to demonstrate against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our faith in humanity is so sorely diminished. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have experienced the animosity and fear of faith-based targeting on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal hot takes of those with inflammatory, divisive stances but no sense at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a time when I regret not having a stronger spiritual belief. I lament, because believing in humanity – in our potential for kindness – has let us down so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such profound instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – police officers and medical staff, those who ran towards the gunfire to help others, some publicly hailed but for the most part anonymous and unsung.

When the police tape still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of community, religious and cultural unity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a call of love and tolerance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a moment of targeted violence.

In keeping with the meaning of the Festival of Lights (illumination amid gloom), there was so much appropriate reference of the need for hope.

Togetherness, light and compassion was the message of belief.

‘Our public places may not appear quite the same again.’

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

Some politicians gravitated straight for the darkness, using tragedy as a calculating opportunity to challenge Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous message of disunity from veteran fomenters of Australian racial division, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the words of political figures while the probe was ongoing.

Politics has a formidable task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the hope and, importantly, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as probable, did such a large public Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly inadequate security presence? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so publicly and repeatedly warned of the threat of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were treated to that cliched argument (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, both things are true. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to stop violent bigotry and keep firearms away from its potential actors.

In this city of profound splendor, of pristine blue heavens above ocean and shore, the water and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not seem quite the same again to the multitude who’ve observed that iconic 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 consolation of aesthetics in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling holiday gathering plans. Quiet contemplation will seem more in order.

But this is perhaps somewhat against instinct. For in these days of anxiety, outrage, sadness, bewilderment and grief we require each other 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 portents are that cohesion in politics and society will be elusive this long, draining summer.