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

As the nation winds down for a customary Christmas holiday across languorous days of beach and blistering heat accompanied by the soundtrack of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer mood feels, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a dramatic oversimplification to describe the national temperament after the anti-Jewish terrorist attack on Jewish Australians during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere discontent.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of the nation's urban centers – a tone of immediate surprise, sorrow and terror is shifting to fury and bitter polarization.

Those who had previously missed the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Similarly, they are attuned to balancing the need for a far more urgent, vigorous official fight against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against genocide.

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

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

This is a period when I regret not having a stronger faith. I lament, because believing in humanity – in our potential for kindness – has failed us so acutely. Something else, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have seen such extreme examples of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. First responders – police officers and paramedics, those who charged into the gunfire to help others, some recognised but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the police tape still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of community, religious and ethnic solidarity was admirably championed by religious figures. It was a call of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than dividing in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Unity, hope and compassion was the essence of belief.

‘Our shared community spaces may not appear exactly as they did again.’

And yet segments of the Australian polity responded so nauseatingly swiftly with division, blame and recrimination.

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

Observe the dangerous message of disunity from veteran agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the statements of leadership aspirants while the probe was ongoing.

Politics has a formidable task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and frightened and seeking the hope and, not least, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as probable, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so publicly and repeatedly alerted of the danger of targeted attacks?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired argument (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not guns that cause death. Naturally, both things are true. It’s feasible to simultaneously seek new ways to stop hate-fuelled violence and prevent guns away from its possible perpetrators.

In this metropolis of immense beauty, of pristine azure skies above ocean and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not look quite the same again to the many who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific violence.

We yearn right now for comprehension and significance, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or nature.

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

But this is perhaps somewhat against instinct. For in these times of anxiety, outrage, sadness, confusion and loss we require each other more than ever.

The reassurance of togetherness – the binding force of the unity in the very word – is what we probably need most.

But sadly, all of the indicators are that unity in politics and society will be elusive this long, draining summer.

Jordan Miller
Jordan Miller

A passionate eSports journalist and former competitive gamer, dedicated to uncovering the stories behind the screens.