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As Australia winds down for a customary Christmas holiday across slow-moving days of beach and scorching heat set to the soundtrack of sporting matches and cicada song, this year the country’s summer atmosphere feels, sadly, like no other.

It would be a dramatic understatement to characterize the national temperament after the antisemitic violent assault on Jewish Australians during the beachside Hanukah celebrations as one of simple ennui.

Throughout the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of Australian cities – a tenor of immediate surprise, sorrow and terror is segueing to anger and bitter division.

Those who had previously missed the frequently expressed concerns of Australian Jews are now highly attuned. Similarly, they are sensitive to balancing the need for a much more immediate, vigorous government and institutional fight against antisemitism with the right to demonstrate against genocide.

If ever there was a moment for a countrywide dialogue, it is now, when our belief in humanity is so deeply depleted. This is particularly so for those of us lucky never to have endured the hatred and dread of religious and ethnic persecution on this land or anywhere else.

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

This is a time when I lament not having a greater spiritual belief. I mourn, because believing in humanity – in our capacity for compassion – has let us down so acutely. A different source, something higher, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such extreme examples of human goodness. The heroism of individuals. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – law enforcement and medical staff, those who charged into the danger to aid others, some recognised 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 ethnic unity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a call of compassion and acceptance – of bringing together rather than splitting apart in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

In keeping with the symbolism of Hanukah (light amid gloom), there was so much fitting reference of the need for hope.

Unity, hope and love was the essence of belief.

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

And yet segments of the political landscape responded so disgustingly swiftly with division, finger-pointing and recrimination.

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

Observe the harmful rhetoric of division from veteran agitators of societal discord, capitalizing on the attack before the site was even cold. Then read the words of political figures while the probe was ongoing.

Politics has a formidable task to do when it comes to bringing together a nation that is grieving and scared and looking for the hope and, importantly, explanations to so many uncertainties.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as likely, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully insufficient protection? Like how could the alleged killers have multiple firearms in the residence when the security agency has so publicly and repeatedly alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were treated to that tired argument (or versions of it) that it’s individuals not guns that cause death. Naturally, both things are true. It’s feasible to simultaneously pursue new ways to prevent violent bigotry and keep firearms away from its possible perpetrators.

In this metropolis of immense beauty, of pristine blue heavens above sea and sand, the ocean and the coastline – our communal areas – may not seem entirely familiar again to the many who’ve observed that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific violence.

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

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Reflective solitude will seem more in order.

But this is perhaps counterintuitively against instinct. For in these times of fear, outrage, melancholy, bewilderment and grief we require each other now more than ever.

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

But sadly, all of the portents are that unity in public life and society will be hard to find this long, enervating summer.