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As the nation settles into for a customary Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and blistering heat accompanied by the background of Test cricket and insect sounds, this year the country’s summer mood seems, unfortunately, like none before.

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

Throughout the country, but nowhere more so than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tenor of initial shock, sorrow and terror is shifting to anger and bitter polarization.

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed fears of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are sensitive to reconciling the need for a much more immediate, energetic government and institutional crackdown against antisemitism with the freedom to peacefully protest against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our faith in mankind is so sorely diminished. This is especially so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and dread of religious and ethnic persecution on this continent or anywhere else.

And yet the algorithms keep spewing at us the banal instant opinions of those with inflammatory, polarizing stances but little understanding at all of that terrifying vulnerability.

This is a period when I regret not having a stronger spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in people – in mankind’s capacity for compassion – has failed us so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is required.

And yet from the atrocity of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme instances of human decency. The heroism of individuals. The selflessness of bystanders. Emergency personnel – police officers 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 barrier cordon still waved in the wind all about Bondi, the imperative of community, faith-based and ethnic unity was laudably championed by faith leaders. It was a call of compassion and tolerance – of bringing together rather than dividing in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

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

Unity, light and compassion was the message of belief.

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

And yet segments of the political landscape responded so nauseatingly quickly with fragmentation, blame and recrimination.

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

Witness the dangerous message of division from veteran fomenters of societal discord, exploiting the attack before the site was even cold. Then consider the statements of leadership aspirants while the investigation was still active.

Government has a daunting task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and frightened and looking for the light and, not least, explanations to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was assessed as probable, did such a large open-air Hanukah event go ahead with such a grossly inadequate security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the security agency has so openly and consistently alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How quickly we were treated to that tired line (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that cause death. Naturally, each point are true. It’s feasible to at the same time pursue new ways to prevent hate-fuelled violence and prevent firearms away from its potential perpetrators.

In this metropolis of profound splendor, of clear blue heavens above sea and sand, the water and the coastline – our communal areas – may not look quite the same again to the multitude who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so jarringly out of place with last weekend’s obscene violence.

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

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Reflective solitude will feel more appropriate.

But this is perhaps counterintuitively against instinct. For in these times of anxiety, anger, sadness, bewilderment and loss we need each other more than ever.

The comfort 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 hard to find this long, draining summer.