On Saturday morning in Adelaide, someone put the finishing touches to their “all girls must finish kindy before marriage” sign; a woman donned her cow suit painted with the message “don’t halal me”; and the Australia First Party stacked their “Multiculturalism Means Death” flyers before joining a thousand other Reclaim Australia supporters in Elder Park. After marching with the crowd to Parliament House, a woman stood with arms outstretched in cruciform to proudly display the Bible verse declaring, “Jesus is the way, the truth and the life” emblazoned on her t-shirt to all observers.

The same morning in Gerringong, New South Wales, Welcome to Australia volunteers were preparing for the first day of a camp for 120 people of eight nationalities who would spend Easter weekend surfing, eating, dancing and spending time together. A Christian campsite had donated their facilities to host volunteers, refugees and asylum seekers from Rwanda, Syria, Congo, Pakistan, Hong Kong, Australia, Afghanistan and Iran while a local church opened its Sunday school rooms to mostly Muslim children for activities and games.

By mid-afternoon, media outlets were sharing footage of violent scenes across the nation as Reclaim Australia supporters clashed with anti-racism activists. ReclaimJeremy – a hashtag created in response to a man who had hijacked Reclaim Australia’s Twitter account – was causing much hilarity and a Muslim refugee from Syria was reflecting on the afternoon’s impromptu dance party in Gerringong.

Suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of severe torture, it was the first time Firas (not his real name) had danced in more than five years. His wife and children joined him in the dance, with dozens of new friends – both Muslim and non-Muslim. On Sunday morning, he mentioned that he’d had his first night of sleep uninterrupted by nightmares since leaving the devastation of Syria.

These simultaneous events are analogous to the alternative futures available to our nation.

In the Reclaim Australia rallies, and the response of the “progressive” protestors who engaged them, we see the ugly fruit of hatred, ignorance and violent confrontation.

The inconsistencies in the Reclaim Australia argument are obvious: people of Muslim faith have lived in Australia since the 1800s; they only make up 2% of our population; halal certification has no measurable impact on our daily lives; people waving Israeli flags marching side-by-side with others brandishing swastika tattoos is cognitive dissonance at its best. Those of us on the progressive side of this argument could take issue with Reclaim Australia’s claim that, “we’re only opposed to extremism”, although when Pauline Hanson said, “We have a right to have an opinion … we don’t like Islam” she’d already won that argument for us.

What’s less obvious is what “progressives” were hoping to achieve this Easter by opposing naked hatred and foul abuse with public expressions of the same hatred and abuse. Which section of society was being strategically appealed to when the Australian flag was being burned? Did my fellow progressives imagine that they’d turn bigots into compassionate advocates for inclusion by chanting “F*** off racists” at them? Or perhaps that Australians would be so impressed by the sheer number of progressives giving up their Easter Saturday for the cause that they’d put their unanswered questions and latent fears aside and wholeheartedly embrace our Muslim brothers and sisters? I count myself as a progressive, but I don’t imagine images of violence, or shouting profanities in the faces of our ideological opposites will encourage any mum or dad to join in on the next progressive rally for a “better Australia.”

Progressives, our title suggests, want something to progress. When we contest opposing ideologies it should be in a manner that takes us closer to the society we are hoping to build. We should be tangible, visible expressions of the future we believe is possible. There should be something about the way we promote our vision for a better tomorrow that makes others want to be a part of it.

On Easter Sunday, while media outlets discussed which group of protestors were more at fault for the ugly mayhem of Saturday, a French-Australian in Gerringong was discussing her weekend,

It was wonderful seeing my daughter and her friends dancing and playing and talking all day together. They loved being different but the same. They swam; they danced and laughed all day. I have really appreciated understanding the background of people who shared their stories of suffering and persecution. We cried together when I realised how hard it’s been. I taught men from Afghanistan to serve. I drummed with people from Syria. And we all were friends. We all are friends.

A few dozen people dancing together in rural New South Wales doesn’t heal our nation’s injured social harmony – but it’s certainly a more appealing vision than the future anticipated by the hatred, violence and abuse witnessed across Australia last Saturday.