Nobody east of the Rabbit-Proof Fence had heard of it two weeks ago, but WA’s Secret Harbour, like Doris Day’s ‘Secret Love’, is no secret anymore. And at some point in the not-too-distant future the contest for this otherwise forgettable South Perth suburb may even be remembered as a national tipping point. In his response to Labor’s drubbing, the Prime Minister seemed to characterise Secret Harbour voters as victims more than victors, no more accountable for their actions, perhaps, than those unfortunate Ugandan children conscripted by the Lord’s Resistance Army. ‘Across the world,’ he warned a conference in Brisbane the following day, ‘hard-right populists are on the march.’ This being an ALP conference, and most of the audience being under thirty, it was a statement which wouldn’t have raised many eyebrows. But for older delegates the last syllable might have struck a worrying note. Ten years ago, no right-wing pundit – let alone a left-wing leader – would have talked about populism being ‘on the march’ anywhere in Australia. Even when Pauline Hanson won her federal Senate seat in 2016, her most vocal detractors only referred to the kind of nationalism she embodied as being ‘on the rise’. And back then Albo, like everyone else in Canberra, would have perceived her as more of a seasonal pest than a perennial problem: a boil that keeps rising no matter how many times it is lanced. But after Secret Harbour, Albo seems to be conceding that what was the rise of one woman has morphed into the march of One Nation, and that those who fail to take either seriously do SO at their peril.

The Prime Minister is right to be wary of opponents who don’t know when to quit, and may even own a copy of the book one of his predecessors wrote on the subject: John Howard’s Lazarus Rising. But while Mr Howard’s comeback may have been miraculous, it was also singular. Ms Hanson, on the other hand, has cheated the Reaper many times, so whoever ghosts her autobiography will have to think of a title which ups the undead ante. Just as Spare reprised something Prince Harry is famous for having once said, Pauline’s publisher may recommend something simple like Explained. But I think a better title for her autobiography would be The Magic Soufflé. As well as referencing Paul Keating’s refusal to take Andrew Peacock seriously ‘because a souffle can’t rise twice’, The Magic Soufflé would also be an homage to the Norman Lindsay children’s classic whose post-Federation, pre-immigration Australian values Pauline promotes. Alternatively, she might consider a title which not only references her ability to keep coming back but is also a nod to the Orange Wave she is riding, and at the same time reminds us that while she may wish to take Australia back to the 1920s, she herself is a child of the Fifties. Who wouldn’t queue outside Dymocks all night to get a signed copy of Pauline Hanson; Boomer Ranga?

For many on the left, of course, being anti-One Nation is just as important as being pro-Palestine, so we can be confident that nobody will resist the Orange Wave more fiercely than the students of Australia’s finest universities. And we can be just as sure that they will have learnt from their experiences of the last two years. They will remember, for example, how much easier it made things to conflate hard-line Zionists in Jerusalem with law-abiding Jews in Double Bay, and how to maximise the size of the target demographic by targeting a shared characteristic. Given all the legal difficulties they’ve had with ‘From the river to the sea’, they might also think it’s a good idea this time round to have more than one slogan, and not to restrict their anti-Pauline protests to uni campuses. So in the next few months do not be surprised if you see a crowd of angry, pink-and-blue-haired young people outside your local high school chanting ‘WHITE SUPREMACY’S NOT COOL, DON’T LET RANGAS IN OUR SCHOOL’. And don’t be surprised if you see the same people outside Coles with banners saying ‘WE HATE PAULINE HANSON’S GUTS, DON’T BUY ARNOTT’S GINGER NUTS.’