For others, there is anger at what they feel is the politicisation of a tragedy.
“It’s a bloody photo op,” one woman tells me on Sunday, as a prominent Australian businesswoman arrives and begins posing with the floral tributes at Bondi.
Some – including the local federal MP Allegra Spender – worry the attack is being used to fuel anti-immigration sentiment.
“We would not have had the man who saved so many Australians if we had cut off, for instance, Muslim immigration,” she said.
Dr Seidler says these arguments fail to recognise that antisemitic views – and other forms of bigotry – are formed here too.
“I heard someone say the other day that Australia thinks it’s on a holiday from history, that we’re somehow immune to this stuff, that it’s not bred here, it’s imported,” Dr Seidler says.
With the anger, there is also fear: for the Jewish community of other attacks, for the Muslim community of retaliation for an act of terror they have loudly condemned.
There are questions over how Australia’s security agency came to drop a 2019 investigation into one of the alleged Bondi Beach suspects, prompting a review into federal police and intelligence agencies that was announced on Sunday.
There is frustration at NSW Police, who have for years been warned by the Muslim community of hate preachers poaching their young men.
There is animosity towards the media, driven by hurt among both Jewish and Arab Australians over a belief they have been misrepresented, and frustration at what some feel is incitement against them.
But there is also a queasiness at the treatment of traumatised victims throughout this week, some of whom were interviewed live on television while the blood of their friends still stained their hands.
Through it all, is an undercurrent of suspicion of institutions and each other.
There are varying opinions on how those rifts can heal – or even if they can. But there is a shared determination to try.