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As the nation winds down for a traditional Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and blistering heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and cicada song, this year the country’s summer mood seems, unfortunately, like no other.

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

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tenor of initial surprise, grief and horror is shifting to anger and bitter polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed fears of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a far more urgent, energetic government and institutional fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a moment for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so deeply diminished. This is especially so for those of us fortunate enough never to have endured the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic targeting on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep spewing at us the banal instant opinions of those with inflammatory, divisive views but little understanding at all of that terrifying fragility.

This is a period when I regret not having a stronger faith. I lament, because having faith in humanity – in mankind’s potential for compassion – has let us down so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have seen such profound instances of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – police officers and paramedics, those who ran towards the gunfire to help fellow humans, some recognised but for the most part unnamed and unsung.

When the police tape still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of community, religious and ethnic unity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of unifying rather than dividing in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Togetherness, light and love was the essence of belief.

‘Our public places may not look exactly as they did again.’

And yet segments of the Australian polity reacted so disgustingly swiftly with division, blame and accusation.

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

Witness the harmful rhetoric of division from longstanding agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then read the statements of leadership aspirants while the probe was still active.

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

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as probable, did such a significant public Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate protection? Like how could the alleged killers have six guns in the residence when the security agency has so publicly and consistently warned 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 kill. Of course, both things are true. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and keep guns away from its potential actors.

In this city of profound splendor, of pristine blue heavens above sea and sand, the water and the beaches – our communal areas – may not look entirely familiar again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s obscene violence.

We long right now for comprehension and significance, for loved ones, and perhaps for the consolation of aesthetics in art or nature.

This weekend many Australians are cancelling holiday gathering plans. Reflective solitude will seem more appropriate.

But this is perhaps somewhat against instinct. For in these times of anxiety, anger, melancholy, confusion and loss we need each other now more than ever.

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

But sadly, all of the portents are that cohesion in public life and the community will be elusive this long, draining summer.