In the latest escalation of Australia’s most explosive political scandal, One Nation leader Pauline Hanson has unleashed a blistering attack on Victoria’s Labor government, likening their excuses over the CFMEU corruption saga to the classic schoolboy alibi: “the dog ate my homework.” The phrase “STOP MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELVES IN FRONT OF US” has become a rallying cry as Hanson demands proof that Victorian Attorney-General Sonya Kilkenny actually reported alleged union misconduct to police—claims now unraveling amid revelations that no such correspondence was ever received or recorded.
The controversy centers on the bombshell report by corruption fighter Geoffrey Watson SC, which alleges that rampant corruption within the Construction, Forestry and Maritime Employees Union (CFMEU) Victorian branch cost taxpayers at least $15 billion through inflated contracts, standover tactics, and infiltration by organized crime figures, including bikie gangs. The report, tendered during a federal inquiry into the CFMEU, describes the union under former leader John Setka as having devolved into a “crime syndicate” rather than a workers’ advocate, with criminal elements siphoning funds from Victoria’s massive “Big Build” infrastructure projects.
Premier Jacinta Allan and her cabinet, including Attorney-General Sonya Kilkenny, have faced mounting pressure to explain why the government allegedly turned a blind eye to these issues despite warnings dating back years. Kilkenny, who also serves as Minister for Planning, claimed in parliament that she had “referred” concerns about CFMEU misconduct to Victoria Police. Yet, when pressed, Victoria Police confirmed they had no record of any such letter or formal referral from the Attorney-General’s office.
This glaring discrepancy prompted Hanson to step in with characteristic bluntness. In a widely shared social media post and subsequent media appearances, she declared: “The story ‘the dog ate my homework’ sounds as plausible as the claim by Victoria’s Labor Attorney-General that she wrote to Victoria Police about the CFMEU corruption and somehow Victoria Police never received the letter.” She further revealed that all legal reporting documents are archived and demanded concrete evidence: “So provide proof that you reported it.”
The political world was thrown into chaos when Hanson escalated further, releasing what she described as comprehensive evidence showing that the Victorian Labor government had systematically ignored the CFMEU corruption scandal. Compounding the outrage, she accused the same administration of granting permission for so-called “ISIS brides”—Australian women who had traveled to join Islamic State in Syria—to return to Australia, framing it as part of a broader pattern of leniency toward threats and criminal elements.
Hanson’s intervention has amplified calls for accountability. The CFMEU scandal has already led to federal intervention, with an administrator appointed to clean up the union’s Victorian branch. Watson’s report details how corruption allegedly inflated project costs by at least 15%, translating to billions lost to taxpayers through kickbacks, no-show jobs, drug distribution on sites, and even the hiring of strippers for workers as perks. Redacted sections of the report reportedly contained direct criticisms of the state government’s inaction, with allegations that officials “knew and had a duty to know” about the infiltration but chose to do nothing.
Kilkenny’s response has been defensive. She initially stood by her parliamentary statement but later admitted to “mis-speaking” or “conflating timelines,” conceding that no referral to police had actually occurred. This admission drew sharp rebukes from opposition figures, who accused her of misleading parliament—a serious breach that could warrant further scrutiny. Police Minister Anthony Carbines and other Labor members have attacked Watson’s credibility, labeling his findings “unfounded” and “reckless,” tactics that anti-corruption experts have decried as attempts to “shoot the messenger.”
The scandal has fractured Victorian Labor internally. Multiple government MPs, including some cabinet members, have privately expressed frustration and publicly called for a royal commission to investigate the full extent of the corruption and the government’s role. Opposition Leader Jess Wilson has seized on the issue, demanding that Premier Allan take responsibility and launch an independent inquiry to recover lost funds and hold those accountable.
Hanson’s role in this drama is pivotal. As a long-time critic of both major parties and unions she views as corrupt, her release of “full evidence” has shifted the narrative from defensive denials to demands for transparency. By linking the CFMEU saga to the controversial repatriation of Australian women and children from Syrian detention camps—individuals associated with Islamic State—Hanson taps into broader public anxieties about security, immigration, and government priorities. The federal government under Anthony Albanese has repeatedly stated it is not facilitating returns or providing support for these individuals, but Hanson’s accusations suggest state-level complicity or negligence.
Public reaction has been swift and polarized. Social media is flooded with memes comparing the government’s excuses to childish fibs, while protests and calls for accountability grow louder. Taxpayers, already burdened by cost-of-living pressures, are outraged at the prospect of $15 billion—roughly $5,000 per household—wasted on corruption. Construction industry insiders have long whispered about union dominance on sites, but the scale revealed in Watson’s report has shocked even seasoned observers.
The implications extend beyond Victoria. The CFMEU scandal has national ramifications, prompting federal scrutiny and administrator Mark Irving’s efforts to reform the union. If proven, the allegations could erode trust in Labor governments across states and fuel anti-union sentiment ahead of future elections.
As the pressure mounts, Premier Allan faces her toughest test yet. Refusing a royal commission risks appearing complicit; agreeing could unearth uncomfortable truths about past administrations, including that of Daniel Andrews. Attorney-General Kilkenny’s credibility hangs in the balance, with her “dog ate my homework” moment becoming a symbol of perceived evasion.
Pauline Hanson’s demand—”STOP MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELVES IN FRONT OF US”—resonates because it captures widespread frustration with political spin over substance. In a democracy, voters expect leaders to confront corruption head-on, not hide behind missing letters or misplaced timelines. Until concrete proof emerges or a full inquiry is launched, the scandal will continue to erode public faith and dominate headlines.
The Victorian Labor government now stands at a crossroads. Ignore Hanson’s challenge, and the accusations of cover-up will only grow. Address them transparently, and there may yet be a path to restoration. But as the evidence mounts and the excuses falter, one thing is clear: the “dog” didn’t eat the homework—this scandal is very much alive and demanding answers.
