Start campaigning or start packing
In the months before a Victorian state election, the secretary of the state's peak union body did something rarely done in the careful choreography of labor politics: he named names. Twenty-three Labor MPs and candidates had made no recorded contact with voters in a fortnight, and Luke Hilakari chose public accountability over private diplomacy — a signal that the union movement sees something in One Nation's rise that the parliamentary party may not yet fully reckon with. It is an old tension in democratic politics, between the urgency of those who organise and the comfort of those who govern, arriving now with a deadline attached.
- One Nation's climbing popularity and Labor's primary vote slipping into the low twenties have created a quiet panic inside Victoria's union movement, even as some MPs appear unmoved.
- Hilakari's decision to publish internal party data — showing ministers with zero voter conversations while a candidate in Richmond logged 270 — transformed a private frustration into a public confrontation.
- The threatened withdrawal of union campaign resources from underperforming seats gives the ultimatum real teeth, since union ground operations form a critical backbone of Labor's election machinery.
- Premier Allan and named ministers pushed back, arguing that door-knock tallies miss forums, community events, and ministerial work — but Hilakari held firm, saying quiet conversations had already failed.
- More than a dozen Labor MPs quietly thanked Hilakari for the intervention, revealing a caucus divided between those who feel the alarm and those still moving at a pre-election pace.
On a Tuesday morning, Luke Hilakari — secretary of Victoria's Trades Hall Council — sent an email that cracked open the Labor caucus. Twenty-three state MPs and candidates had recorded zero conversations with voters over the previous two weeks. The union boss was not interested in explanations. With November's election approaching and One Nation's support rising, he told them plainly: campaign hard or forfeit the union movement's backing.
The figures came from Labor's own fortnightly voter contact tracking system, intended as internal intelligence. By making them public, Hilakari exposed a party of uneven effort. A candidate chasing Richmond from the Greens had logged 270 constituent conversations. Others in outer suburban seats were in the hundreds. Meanwhile, several senior ministers — including figures from cabinet — had recorded nothing. The premier had knocked on 86 doors; her deputy, 35. The disparity suggested that some of Labor's most senior figures had either misread the moment or considered such work beneath them.
Hilakari's email, subject-lined 'Complacent MPs should not expect any support,' was a direct threat: improve voter contact within a fortnight or face a recommendation to his executive council that union campaign resources be pulled from their seats entirely. He reminded the caucus that union members were giving up family time to staff street stalls and make phone calls after work — and had every right to expect the same from their elected representatives.
Premier Allan responded the following day, arguing the data was too narrow — that community forums, mobile offices, and ministerial duties didn't appear in the fortnightly tallies. Named ministers offered similar defences. But Hilakari was unmoved. He told The Guardian that more than a dozen Labor MPs had privately thanked him, relieved that someone had finally said it aloud. A handful complained the intervention should have stayed quiet. His answer: quiet conversations had already been tried. With five months left and One Nation on a trajectory that could reshape the Victorian upper house, there was no longer room for discretion.
Luke Hilakari, the secretary of Victoria's Trades Hall Council, sent an email on Tuesday morning that landed like a grenade in the Labor caucus. Twenty-three state MPs and candidates had conducted zero conversations with voters over the previous two weeks. Zero. The union boss was not interested in excuses. If these politicians didn't "work their ass off" to stop One Nation's rise, they should not expect the union movement's support when November's election arrived.
The data came from Labor party headquarters, which had been tracking voter contact fortnightly since mid-2025. It was meant to be internal intelligence. Hilakari made it public, and in doing so, he exposed a party that appeared to be sleepwalking toward a potential catastrophe. One Nation's popularity was climbing. Labor's primary vote had slipped into the low twenties. The union movement was preparing what Hilakari called its "biggest election campaign ever," and he wanted to know which MPs and candidates were actually out there fighting for their seats.
The numbers told a story of wildly uneven effort. Sarah McKenzie, seeking to reclaim Richmond from the Greens, had logged 270 conversations with constituents—more than anyone else. Uros Rasic in Sydenham had 180. Meng Heang Tak in Clarinda had 159. Then there were the ministers: Steve Dimopoulos, Sonya Kilkenny, Nick Staikos, Ros Spence, and Natalie Suleyman all registered zero. The premier, Jacinta Allan, had knocked on 86 doors and spoken with 32 people. Her deputy, Ben Carroll, had managed 35 doors and 11 conversations. The contrast was stark enough to suggest that some of Labor's most senior figures believed the election was already won—or that voter contact was beneath their station.
Hilakari's email was blunt. "I was frankly enraged," he wrote, with the subject line "Complacent MPs should not expect any support." The message was simple: start campaigning or start packing. If voter contact didn't improve within a fortnight, he would recommend to his executive council that union campaigning action be withdrawn from their seats entirely. For candidates in marginal seats, he suggested stripping them of union support altogether if they were eligible for it. The union had thousands of members ready to sacrifice time with their families, he said, attending street stalls, knocking on doors, making phone calls after work. They had every right to expect the same commitment from their elected representatives.
On Wednesday, Premier Allan pushed back. The data, she said, didn't capture the full picture of community engagement. There were forums, meetings, community events, mobile office work—not all of it showed up in the fortnightly reports. She defended her team as working "incredibly hard." Sonya Kilkenny, one of the named ministers with zero conversations, echoed the defense. She pointed to her work as attorney general, to phone banking, to community events, to the new laws Labor was introducing. The implication was clear: voter contact metrics were too narrow a measure of what an MP actually does.
But Hilakari was unmoved by the pushback. He told The Guardian that more than a dozen Labor MPs had actually thanked him for the intervention, frustrated by colleagues who were "dragging their heels." A small handful of the 23 named had contacted him to say his concerns could have been raised more quietly. His response was that quiet conversations had already happened, and they hadn't worked. With five months until the election, there was no time left for discretion. Every MP needed to understand what was at stake: Pauline Hanson and One Nation were on track to become the majority party in Victoria if Labor didn't fight for every seat, every conversation, every vote.
Notable Quotes
Every MP should be working their ass off right now to make sure that Pauline Hanson and One Nation doesn't become the majority party in the state of Victoria.— Luke Hilakari, Trades Hall Council secretary
There's forums, there's meetings, there's community events, there's the mobile office work. Not all of that necessarily gets captured in that data set but it is all about community engagement.— Premier Jacinta Allan, defending Labor's engagement efforts
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Hilakari decide to name them publicly instead of working behind the scenes?
Because quiet conversations had already happened. He'd been raising this with Labor for months, and nothing changed. He saw One Nation climbing in the polls and Labor's primary vote collapsing, and he realized he was out of time for diplomacy.
But doesn't public shaming risk damaging Labor right before an election?
That's what the premier and some MPs argued. But Hilakari's view was that the damage was already done—by the MPs themselves, by not doing the work. He was trying to force accountability before it was too late.
The data shows huge disparities. Some candidates had 270 conversations, ministers had zero. What explains that?
Partly it's about where you are in the party. Senior ministers might think they don't need to knock on doors. Candidates fighting for marginal seats know they have to earn every vote. But Hilakari saw it as a sign that some people had given up, or never started.
Did the public pressure work?
That's the question. Hilakari said more than a dozen MPs thanked him privately, which suggests some took it seriously. Whether they actually changed their behavior in the next fortnight—that's what he was watching for.
What does this say about Labor's confidence going into the election?
It suggests they're not confident at all. If they were, Hilakari wouldn't need to threaten to pull union support. The fact that a union boss had to shame them into campaigning is itself a sign of trouble.