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As the nation settles into for a traditional Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and cicada song, this year the country’s summer atmosphere seems, sadly, like no other.

It would be a significant oversimplification to characterize the national temperament after the anti-Jewish violent assault on Australian Jews during the beachside Hanukah festivities as one of mere ennui.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most postcard picturesque of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate shock, grief and terror is shifting to fury and bitter division.

Those who had not picked up on the often voiced concerns of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, vigorous official crackdown against antisemitism with the right to peacefully protest against genocide.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so sorely diminished. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic targeting on this land or anywhere else.

And yet the social media feeds keep spewing at us the trite instant opinions of those with blistering, divisive views but no sense at all of that profound fragility.

This is a time when I lament not having a stronger spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in people – in mankind’s potential for kindness – has let us down so acutely. Something else, something higher, is required.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have seen such profound examples of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The selflessness of bystanders. First responders – law enforcement and paramedics, those who charged into the gunfire to aid others, some publicly hailed but for the most part unnamed and unheralded.

When the barrier cordon still fluttered in the wind all about Bondi, the necessity of community, faith-based and ethnic solidarity was laudably promoted by faith leaders. It was a call of love and tolerance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a time of antisemitic slaughter.

Consistent with the symbolism of the Festival of Lights (light amid darkness), there was so much fitting evocation of the need for hope.

Unity, light and love was the essence of faith.

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

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

Some elected officials moved straight for the darkness, using tragedy as a calculating chance to challenge Australia’s migration rules.

Witness the dangerous message of disunity from longstanding agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the massacre before the site was even cold. Then read the statements of political figures while the probe was still active.

Government has a formidable job to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and frightened and seeking the hope and, importantly, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the official terror alert was assessed as likely, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully inadequate protection? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the security agency has so publicly and consistently alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that cliched argument (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, each point are valid. It’s feasible to at the same time seek new ways to stop hate-fuelled violence and keep firearms away from its potential actors.

In this city of profound beauty, of clear blue heavens above ocean and shore, the water and the coastline – our shared community spaces – may not seem entirely familiar again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We yearn right now for comprehension and meaning, for family, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in art or nature.

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Quiet contemplation will feel more in order.

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

The reassurance of togetherness – the human glue of the unity in the very word – is what we likely need most.

But tragically, all of the portents are that unity in politics and society will be hard to find this extended, enervating summer.