The Campaign and Its Backers

A billboard truck carrying the slogan "Ditch the Witch" — accompanied by an edited image of Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan wearing a witch's hat — circulated through Melbourne on Friday night, prompting swift criticism from politicians across the spectrum. The Age later identified Franco Puleo, owner of the Gotham City brothel in South Melbourne, as one of the people who funded the campaign. Puleo confirmed he helped pay for it, which cost $105,000 total and was backed by Puleo and several other local business owners.

Three separate billboards were created, each showing Allan as a witch alongside messages about community safety and government mismanagement. The people behind the campaign said they intended this as substantive political criticism rather than a personal jab. The backers appear to have been motivated by policy disagreements, though the method they chose to make their point is what captured most public attention.

Responses From the Premier and the Prime Minister

Allan responded quickly by shaping the conversation. In social media posts, she called the effort "a secret and well-funded political campaign" and said the tone of such attacks corrodes democratic discussion. She distinguished between genuine political disagreement—which she said is healthy in democracy—and targeted attacks on women in power, which she called unacceptable. Allan also raised concern about what this kind of rhetoric teaches younger generations, saying sexism has no place in politics.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese called the campaign "sexist" and said it "has no place in public life." He argued that elections should be decided on ideas, not personal attacks. His statement elevated the dispute from a state issue to a national conversation within hours.

Opposition politicians joined the criticism too. Deputy Liberal Leader Jane Hume—whose party would normally benefit from attacks on Allan—called the billboard truck campaign "unacceptable." This was a notable move, since her party had reasons to stay quiet. The imagery had apparently crossed a line even for those who would gain politically from anti-Allan feeling.

Echoes From the Past

The slogan itself is not new, and its history matters. Former Prime Minister Julia Gillard said she was disturbed to see "Ditch the Witch" revived, noting it was used against her when she was Australia's first female prime minister. SBS News reported both Gillard's and Albanese's condemnation.

This pattern has surfaced before. A placard reading "Ditch the Witch"—held at a Canberra rally in 2011 while then-Opposition Leader Tony Abbott stood nearby—became one of the most scrutinized images of that political era. It sparked a parliamentary debate about misogyny in public life, leading to Gillard's now-famous speech on the subject. Seeing the same phrase deployed again, fifteen years later and in an expensive paid campaign format, suggests two things: certain attack lines stick around in Australian politics, and some actors calculate they are worth funding despite their history.

A Voice of Disagreement: Pauline Hanson

Not everyone saw the episode as primarily about gender-based harm. One Nation leader Pauline Hanson told Allan to "suck it up, sweetheart" when responding to sexism complaints. Hanson's position came from her own experience: she pointed out that former Nationals leader Tim Fischer once called her a witch and said she should be burned at the stake, and she managed without demanding the same level of political support. Her intervention disrupted the broad bipartisan consensus against the campaign and introduced a different view about where to draw the line between harsh but acceptable political speech and attacks that go too far.

Animal Justice Party state MP Georgie Purcell added her voice against the imagery, stating that sexism should not be used as a tool in political argument.

The Money Trail and What It Tells Us

The revelation that Puleo and other business owners funded the campaign—with a $105,000 price tag—shifts how we should see it. This was not a spontaneous protest by a fringe group. It was an organized, professionally funded political operation. A brothel owner being among the funders is striking, but the more important detail is the network of local business owners apparently willing to pool money for a campaign like this outside of formal party structures.

Allan described it as "secret and well-funded," raising a question about transparency. Australia's electoral finance rules require political donations to registered parties and candidates to be reported and disclosed. However, third-party campaigners—groups not directly tied to parties—operate under different rules that critics argue are less transparent. Whether the $105,000 spending triggers reporting requirements under Victorian or federal law is now a question regulators may have to answer.

The situation unfolds as Victoria heads toward state elections in November 2026. Allan's government has faced ongoing criticism over crime and community safety—exactly the issues the billboards highlighted alongside the witch imagery. The campaign's funders appear to have believed that a shocking visual would amplify their message in a way ordinary channels had not. However, the sharp backlash and the number of political figures who condemned the campaign suggest they may have miscalculated—investing heavily to draw attention that ultimately worked against them.

What Happens Now

In the short term, the campaign has created sympathy for Allan from unexpected quarters, including federal politicians and those from opposing parties. In that sense, the campaign achieved the opposite of what its creators intended.

The longer-term question is whether the condemnation leads to concrete changes in law or regulation. Victoria has previously restricted certain forms of political advertising. This episode puts renewed focus on whether third-party campaign finance disclosure is adequate. It also reopens a recurring conversation in Australian politics—one that often surfaces but rarely gets resolved—about political speech, whether attack language targeting women in office is acceptable, and what structural obstacles face women seeking or holding power.

For people studying campaigns, electoral law, and political strategy, this case offers several lessons: how funding opacity becomes the real story, how linking a campaign to its historical past can overshadow the intended message, and how cross-party condemnation, though swift, does not always change the financial incentives that produce campaigns like this one in the first place.