In the days that have followed, politicians and police in Australia have grappled to find the right words. New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern told her people they were "united in their grief" and assured them the true character of their nation was the response rather than the attack itself.

Our nation can feel isolated, and therefore protected from the atrocities that happen across the seas. Until Friday afternoon, New Zealanders likely felt the same way.

"Not only are New Zealanders our close friends and often family, but we share the same proud values of freedom, diversity and democracy," NSW Premier Gladys Berejiklian said. "An attack on one section of the community is an attack on us all."

Others, including Senator Fraser Anning, have been slapped down by all sides of politics after attempting to widen the cracks and divisions that apparently motivated the misguided perpetrators to forego mercy and basic humanity. "Australians will be utterly ashamed of this racist man," British Home Secretary Sajid Javid said of Mr Anning. "In no way does he represent our Australian friends."

The dog-whistles that have shifted into our public discourse, both national and international, do little to bring people together in anything but opposition to others.

Nothing can undo the horrors of Friday. All we can decide is the legacy of these horrors. To put it plainly, we must choose whether these horrors divide us further or our shared revulsion that someone could commit them draws us closer.

Surely it is best to remember the victims first, and the perpetrator only as a misguided and cautionary vision of what emphasising difference and division over similarity and solidarity reaps. Australians certainly have more in common with those killed in New Zealand than the native of this country who allegedly pulled the trigger. Offering a fair go for all is how we can prove that daily.