Bondi attack

'In this time of darkness let's spread light.' But still tensions flare

- Ben Doherty

The sun rises early at this time of year, hitting the south of Bondi beach first before chasing the shadows north, the gradual retreat of the darkness to the light.

Hanukah, the Jewish festival of lights, was being celebrated here last weekend, when the darkness came brutally roaring back.

At dawn yesterday, people came in their thousands, in their many colours and their many tribes, to be back in the sea. They came bearing messages of unity, of solidarity and peace.

"In this time of darkness, let's spread light, love and compassion," the crowd was urged, before thousands took surfboards and rescue boards, or simply swam out to join together in a mammoth circle in the sea, facing the middle of the beach.

That solidarity is holding, for now. In the water, it feels strong and loving.

But back on land, across Sydney and the rest of Australia, that unity is taut and fragile. Undercurrents of political division, of a politicisation of a community's grief, of a fraying social cohesion, are breaking through the surface.

The water helps to forget. But some things cannot be undone.

Fifteen innocents were shot dead here in minutes by high-powered rifles allegedly carried by a father and son, Sajid and Naveed Akram. Sajid was shot dead. Naveed was shot too, but survived. From hospital, he has been charged with dozens of offences, including terrorism and 15 counts of murder.

The footbridge from where the gunmen fired has been reopened. On the wall, someone has sketched a menorah in chalk. There is a bee drawn too, in remembrance of her father's nickname of the youngest victim, 10-year-old Matilda.

But the bridge that was once the passage of thousands of innocent visits to the beach each day will be forever marked now. A stain that cannot be erased, a memory that cannot be forgotten.