Was Pauline Hanson justified in telling a Greens senator to “piss off back to Pakistan”? u1
Beyond the Clash of Sovereigns and Twitter Tropes: Inside Australia’s Defining Battle Over Citizenship, Speech, and Belonging
On September 8, 2022, the death of Queen Elizabeth II sent waves across the globe. In Australia—a constitutional monarchy navigating a painful historical dialogue regarding indigenous rights, colonialism, and identity—the passing of the sovereign immediately ignited sharp public debates.
Among those who publicly refused to participate in collective mourning was Dr. Mehreen Faruqi, a Pakistani-born Australian engineer, academic, and deputy leader of the Australian Greens. Sitting as a Federal Senator representing New South Wales, Faruqi took to the social media platform Twitter (now X) on September 9, 2022. Her post read:
“Condolences to those who mourn the Queen. I cannot mourn the leader of a racist empire built on stolen lives, land and wealth of colonised peoples.”
Faruqi concluded her post with an explicit call to action: demanding a treaty with First Nations peoples, justice and reparations for former British colonies, and Australia’s transition to a republic.
The tweet ignited immediate fury across conservative political circles. Among the most visceral reactions came from Senator Pauline Hanson, founder and leader of the right-wing populist party Pauline Hanson’s One Nation. Hanson, who built her political legacy in the mid-1990s on opposition to Asian immigration and First Nations land rights, delivered a swift, unvarnished reply:
“Your attitude appalls and disgusts me. When you immigrated to Australia you took every advantage of this country. You took citizenship, bought multiple homes, and a job in a parliament. It’s clear you’re not happy, so pack your bags and piss off back to Pakistan.”
CHRONOLOGY OF A CONSTITUTIONAL CLASH
Sept 8-9, 2022 Sept 2022 May 2023 Nov 1, 2024 July 27, 2026
────────────────── ─────────────── ─────────────── ───────────────── ──────────────────
Death of Queen Hanson replies Faruqi files Justice Stewart Full Federal
Elizabeth II; to Faruqi on X: Federal Court rules Hanson in Court unanimously
Faruqi posts "piss off back lawsuit under breach of Section dismisses Hanson's
critical tweet to Pakistan" Section 18C 18C of RDA appeal
The Legal Escalation
Initially, Senator Faruqi submitted a formal complaint to the Australian Human Rights Commission (AHRC). Senator Hanson refused to participate in conciliation proceedings through the AHRC, effectively closing the administrative pathway and setting the stage for formal litigation.

In May 2023, Faruqi launched civil proceedings against Hanson in the Federal Court of Australia, alleging a direct breach of Section 18C of the Racial Discrimination Act 1975 (Cth).
Section 18C establishes that it is unlawful to perform an act in public if:
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The act is reasonably likely, in all the circumstances, to offend, insult, humiliate, or intimidate another person or group of people.
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The act is done because of the race, color, or national or ethnic origin of the person or group.
Hanson’s legal defense anchored itself on three primary pillars:
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Section 18D Exemptions: That her comments were made reasonably and in good faith as a “fair comment” on a matter of public interest—namely, the Australian republic debate and parliamentarians’ loyalty to constitutional institutions.
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Constitutional Protection: That her speech was protected by Australia’s implied constitutional freedom of political communication.
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Denial of Intent: Asserting that her response was a critique of Faruqi’s hypocrisy and political conduct rather than her ethnic background.
The Landmark Rulings
On November 1, 2024, Justice Angus Stewart handed down a scathing judgment against Hanson in Faruqi v Hanson [2024] FCA 1264.
Justice Stewart found that Hanson’s tweet was an unlawful act of racial discrimination. The court ruled that telling an immigrant parliamentarian to “piss off back to Pakistan” was a classic incarnation of an established xenophobic trope. Justice Stewart highlighted three core messages conveyed by Hanson’s tweet:
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That non-white immigrants who accept Australian citizenship are expected to show uncritical gratitude and relinquish their right to challenge national history or state institutions.
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That foreign-born Australians of color remain second-class citizens whose right to reside in the country is conditional.
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That Faruqi’s presence in Parliament was an act of opportunism rather than the legitimate exercise of democratic governance.
The Court rejected Hanson’s “fair comment” defense under Section 18D, stating there was no rational, conscientious connection between expressing political disagreement and telling an opponent to leave the country. Hanson was ordered to delete the tweet and pin a notice declaring her unlawful conduct to her social media profile.
Hanson appealed to the Full Federal Court of Australia, arguing both that the trial judge erred in applying Section 18C and that Section 18C itself was an unconstitutional burden on political discourse.
On July 27, 2026, a three-judge panel of the Full Federal Court unanimously dismissed Hanson’s appeal in its entirety. The appellate panel affirmed that while Section 18C does burden political speech, that burden is constitutionally valid and proportionate to the legitimate societal goal of protecting minority groups from public vilification and marginalization.
Outside the courthouse, Faruqi declared: “Today, justice has prevailed. This win is for every single person out there who has been told to go back to where you came from.”
In response, Hanson expressed disappointment, reaffirming her intent to seek special leave to appeal to the High Court of Australia—the nation’s supreme judicial authority.
THE ANATOMY OF A CULTURAL COLLISION
┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ POLITICAL FRICTION IN AUSTRALIA │
└───────────────────────────┬────────────────────────────┘
│
┌─────────────────────────┴─────────────────────────┐
▼ ▼
┌─────────────────────────────┐ ┌─────────────────────────────┐
│ THE NATIVIST NARRATIVE │ │ THE POST-COLONIAL LENS │
│ (Pauline Hanson / Right) │ │ (Mehreen Faruqi / Left) │
├─────────────────────────────┤ ├─────────────────────────────┤
│ • Conditional citizenship │ │ • Unconditional citizenship │
│ • Loyalty = gratitude │ │ • Loyalty = constructive │
│ • Rejection of anti-Western │ │ critique & truth-telling │
│ critique of crown │ │ • De-colonization agenda │
└─────────────────────────────┘ └─────────────────────────────┘
│ │
└─────────────────────────┬─────────────────────────┘
│
▼
┌──────────────────────────┐
│ SECTION 18C LEGAL │
│ BATTLEGROUND │
└──────────────────────────┘
Having spent three decades covering political seismic shifts across Washington, Westminster, and Canberra, I view the collision between Mehreen Faruqi and Pauline Hanson as far more than an ugly social media brawl or a routine legal feud between political polar opposites.
When you strip away the visceral headlines, this case reveals an existential collision over the definition of modern statehood, the boundaries of parliamentary speech, and the unwritten conditions attached to Western citizenship in the 21st century.
What Has Been Overlooked: The Calculus of Calculated Outrage
What most commentary misses is that neither woman acted on impulse. In modern digital politics, outrage is a currency, and both actors understood the economic and political yields of their exchanges long before the first legal filing was drafted.
Consider Senator Faruqi’s initial post. Published while the body of the British monarch was still lying in state, her commentary was designed to trigger maximum cultural friction. As a Greens politician representing a urban, highly educated, progressive constituency, Faruqi’s stance on decolonization, First Nations justice, and anti-monarchism was consistent with her party platform. However, delivering that message on the exact day of a global monarch’s death was an intentional provocation aimed at forcing Australia’s national media to center the colonial legacy rather than default to uncritical grief.
On the flip side, Pauline Hanson’s response was a precise deployment of her political brand. Since her explosive 1996 maiden speech in the House of Representatives—where she famously warned Australia was in danger of being “swamped by Asians”—Hanson has survived thirty years in public life by positioning herself as the uncensored voice of working-class, native-born Anglo-Celtic Australians who feel displaced by rapid multiculturalism.
Telling a foreign-born, hijab-wearing, university-educated progressive woman to “piss off back to Pakistan” was not a spontaneous breakdown of parliamentary etiquette; it was Hanson’s core ideological message distilled into seven words. It was designed to signal to her base that while elite institutions cowered before progressive identity politics, Pauline Hanson remained unbowed, saying aloud what her voters whispered at kitchen tables.
Both women received exactly what their political machinery required: viral visibility, heightened donor engagement, and total base consolidation.
The Deeper Meaning: Conditional vs. Unconditional Citizenship
At the heart of Faruqi v Hanson lies an uncomfortable question that democracies across the West—from the United States to Europe and Australia—are struggling to answer: Is citizenship an unconditional legal right, or is it a social contract that requires ideological conformity?
Hanson’s argument, stripped of its crude language, represents a deeply rooted nativist doctrine: If you chose to migrate to a nation, adopted its nationality, benefited from its infrastructure, and entered its highest governing body, you owe that nation’s founding heritage a baseline of respect, or at least a restraint from contempt. In this worldview, citizenship for immigrants is inherently conditional—a privilege that can be socially revoked if the recipient displays what is perceived as ingratitude toward the host culture.
Justice Angus Stewart’s judgment, affirmed by the Full Federal Court, firmly dismantled this legal premise. The judiciary asserted that under Australian law, there is no tiered citizenship. A naturalized citizen who migrated from South Asia possesses the exact same constitutional right to critique, challenge, condemn, or seek to reform Australian state institutions as a Seventh-generation Anglo-Australian senator whose ancestors arrived on the First Fleet.
By explicitly finding that Hanson’s comment treated Faruqi as a “second-class Australian,” the court established a precedent: political actors cannot use an immigrant’s national origin or path to citizenship as an weapon to silence their political speech.
The Legal Paradox: Section 18C and the Chilling of Speech
As a veteran journalist who has reported from nations where journalists and citizens are routinely jailed for political dissent, I view Section 18C of Australia’s Racial Discrimination Act with nuanced concern.
Unlike the United States, where the First Amendment provides broad protection to speech—including speech that is deeply offensive or racially charged—Australia lacks an explicit constitutional bill of rights. Instead, Australian courts have recognized an implied constitutional freedom of political communication, designed narrowly to ensure voters can discuss political matters required for democratic self-governance.
Section 18C sets a threshold that includes the words “offend” and “insult”. Legal scholars have long argued that “offense” and “insult” are subjective emotional states rather than objective legal harms. When the state equips courts to penalize speech because it “offends” an opponent, it enters a treacherous territory.
In this specific case, Justice Stewart and the Full Federal Court carefully navigated this hazard by highlighting that Hanson did not merely insult Faruqi’s ideas; she attacked her right to belong to the body politic based on her ethnic origin. But the larger policy question remains wide open: Does Section 18C protect marginalized groups from systemic harm, or does it invite political combatants to weaponize the legal system to settle partisan grievances?
By choosing to bypass parliamentary censure motions and take Hanson to federal court, Faruqi established that judicial halls are now active battlegrounds for political speech disputes.
Unanswered Questions in the Wake of the Verdict
As this litigation heads toward a potential High Court appeal, several critical questions hang over the Australian political landscape:
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The High Court Standard: If the High Court grants special leave to hear Hanson’s appeal, will the bench reconsider the constitutional validity of Section 18C’s “offend and insult” threshold? A High Court ruling could recalibrate free speech jurisprudence across Australia for decades.
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The Precedent of Exclusivity: If telling a naturalized politician to “go back to where you came from” is legally actionable racial discrimination, where is the line drawn for other harsh political rhetoric? How will courts distinguish between harsh ideological pushback and unlawful ethnic vilification when public figures exchange blows over sensitive matters like immigration policy, foreign affairs, or religious freedom?
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The Efficacy of Judicial Remedies: Did the court order ordering Hanson to remove her tweet and pin a notice actually reduce racism, or did it merely elevate Hanson into a martyr for free speech in the eyes of her supporters?
The battle between Mehreen Faruqi and Pauline Hanson is not a temporary media distraction; it is a preview of the ideological conflicts that will define Western constitutional democracies over the coming century.
When a society becomes multi-ethnic, multi-faith, and deeply pluralistic, the historical consensus surrounding national identity begins to fragment. In that environment, traditional symbols—whether the British Crown, national flags, or colonial histories—become flashpoints.
The legal system can enforce guardrails around civil discourse. It can decree that telling an immigrant senator to “piss off back to Pakistan” crosses from robust debate into unlawful discrimination. It can penalize xenophobia and protect the principle that all citizens, regardless of origin, hold equal rights within the democratic arena.
However, a court judgment cannot force a divided nation to agree on its own history. It cannot legislate mutual respect between politicians who view each other not merely as political opponents, but as existential threats to the nation’s survival.
As Australia awaits the potential final chapter of this legal saga in its highest court, citizens and observers across the democratic world are left to grapple with a fundamental question:
When a nation’s history divides its people, can free speech and equal belonging truly coexist without one destroying the other?




