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While Australia settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and scorching heat accompanied by the soundtrack of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer mood seems, unfortunately, like no other.

It would be a significant oversimplification to describe the collective disposition after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of simple ennui.

Across the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate shock, sorrow and terror is segueing to anger and deep polarization.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed concerns of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Similarly, they are attuned to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, vigorous government and institutional crackdown against anti-Jewish hatred with the right to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so sorely depleted. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or elsewhere.

And yet the algorithms keep churning out at us the trite hot takes of those with blistering, polarizing views but no sense at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a time when I lament not having a greater spiritual belief. I mourn, because having faith in people – in our capacity for kindness – has failed us so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is needed.

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

When the police tape still waved wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of social, faith-based and cultural unity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a message of compassion and tolerance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a moment of targeted violence.

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

Togetherness, light and love was the essence of belief.

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

And yet elements of the political landscape reacted so disgustingly quickly with division, blame and accusation.

Some elected officials gravitated straight for the pessimism, using the atrocity as a cynical chance to challenge Australia’s immigration policies.

Observe the harmful message of disunity from longstanding fomenters of Australian racial division, exploiting the attack before the crime scene was even cold. Then consider the words of leadership aspirants while the investigation was ongoing.

Government has a formidable task to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is mourning and frightened and looking for the light and, importantly, explanations to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the official terror alert was judged as probable, did such a significant open-air Hanukah celebration go ahead with such a grossly insufficient protection? Like how could the alleged killers have six guns in the residence when the domestic intelligence organisation has so openly and repeatedly alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were subjected to that tired argument (or versions of it) that it’s people not guns that cause death. Naturally, each point are true. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to stop violent bigotry and prevent guns away from its potential actors.

In this city of immense beauty, of clear azure skies above sea 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 jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific violence.

We long right now for comprehension and significance, for family, and perhaps for the consolation of aesthetics in art or the natural world.

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

But this is perhaps somewhat against instinct. For in these times of fear, anger, melancholy, bewilderment and loss we need 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 tragically, all of the indicators are that cohesion in public life and society will be elusive this extended, enervating summer.