At a Brisbane conservative conference meant to showcase the right's united front, Australia's political fault lines deepened instead. Pauline Hanson, commanding a fraction of the parliamentary seats held by Liberal leader Angus Taylor, nonetheless claimed the room's allegiance — a reminder that in politics, legitimacy is often conferred by the crowd before it is earned by the count. Taylor's careful repositioning toward the hard right satisfied neither the base he was courting nor the centrists he cannot afford to lose, leaving the opposition's identity as unsettled as ever.
Hanson emerges as de facto opposition leader as Taylor struggles at CPAC
It was up to Angus Taylor, she said—and left him guessing.
Mark
So what actually happened at this conference? Was it just that Hanson gave a better speech?
Mimi
It was more than that. Taylor showed up as the sitting Liberal leader—first time that's happened—trying to win back conservative voters One Nation has been taking. But the crowd was already Hanson's. She got a standing ovation before she even spoke.
Luke
But let's be clear about what we're measuring. CPAC is a specific crowd—activated, hardline conservatives. That's not representative of the broader electorate the Coalition needs to win.
Mimi
Right, but that's exactly why Taylor being there was risky. He's trying to reclaim ground on the right, but the voters he actually needs are in the center.
Mark
What about the cooperation angle? Is that actually possible?
Mimi
Hanson left it open. She ruled out formal coalition arrangements—no ministry positions either way—but she said cooperation depends on Taylor. She's keeping him guessing.
Luke
The thing is, we don't know what "cooperation" would look like in practice. Hanson was vague about it on purpose. That's not reporting, that's her strategy.
Mark
So Taylor's in a bind?
Mimi
Completely. He needs the center to win government, but the right-wing base he was trying to appeal to at CPAC has moved past him. Hanson's filling that void.
Luke
And we should note—this is one conference, one day. It's a snapshot of momentum, not a prediction. But the snapshot is pretty clear.
Mark
What does Taylor do now?
Mimi
That's the question. Hanson basically said it's up to him. He has to figure out whether to chase the right or rebuild in the center. He can't do both.
Le Pouls
- A standing ovation for Hanson before she'd uttered a word made the power dynamic unmistakable — the Liberal leader was a guest in a room that had already chosen its champion.
- Taylor's policy concessions, including a tougher immigration target and apologies for past Liberal moderation, were met with heckling rather than applause, exposing how far the activist base has drifted from his orbit.
- Hanson's disciplined, scripted performance — sharper than her usual style — signaled that One Nation is playing a longer game, positioning itself as the authentic voice of conservative grievance rather than a fringe protest movement.
- Hanson ruled out formal coalition arrangements but left the door conspicuously ajar, declaring that any cooperation was 'up to Angus Taylor' — a public test that placed the burden of compromise entirely on her rival.
- Taylor's structural dilemma sharpened in that convention hall: the voters he needs to win government are not the voters cheering Hanson, and the voters cheering Hanson are no longer reliably his to reclaim.
At a Brisbane conservative conference meant to showcase the right's united front, Australia's political fault lines deepened instead. Pauline Hanson, commanding a fraction of the parliamentary seats held by Liberal leader Angus Taylor, nonetheless claimed the room's allegiance — a reminder that in politics, legitimacy is often conferred by the crowd before it is earned by the count. Taylor's careful repositioning toward the hard right satisfied neither the base he was courting nor the centrists he cannot afford to lose, leaving the opposition's identity as unsettled as ever.
Saturday's Conservative Political Action Conference in Brisbane was billed as a showcase for Australia's right, with Liberal leader Angus Taylor, Pauline Hanson, and the Nationals' Matt Canavan sharing the stage as equal headliners. What unfolded instead was an unscripted referendum on who the conservative movement actually trusts.
Taylor arrived with policy ammunition — apologies for past Liberal sins on immigration, pandemic spending, and net zero, paired with a new immigration crackdown announced days earlier. He declared his party 'unashamedly on the right' and hit every expected note on big government and climate bureaucracy. The crowd booed anyway. When he sidestepped questions about closer cooperation with Hanson, the heckling grew louder. The keynote billing his office had sought quietly dissolved in the room's indifference.
Hanson needed none of it. She walked into a standing ovation, her campaign video already warming a crowd that was hers before she spoke. Her address was tighter and more scripted than usual — economic pain, climate anger, migration frustration, elite resentment — and nearly every line connected. She took aim at the Coalition's detachment without fully closing the door on future cooperation, leaving Taylor's role in any such arrangement pointedly conditional on his own next moves.
At a press conference afterward, Hanson ruled out formal coalition arrangements or ministerial exchanges, but offered a single loaded sentence when pressed on whether the right might yet find common ground: it was 'up to Angus Taylor.' The ambiguity was deliberate. She was holding leverage without spending it.
For Taylor, the deeper problem is structural. Reclaiming the center is the only path to government, but the energized conservative base is moving in the opposite direction — and it is moving toward Hanson. His loudest applause came when he attacked socialism, not when he outlined fiscal policy. In a room that had already decided, the gap between what he was offering and what they wanted to hear may be the defining challenge of his leadership.
The Conservative Political Action Conference in Brisbane on Saturday was supposed to be a three-way contest for the hearts of Australia's right-wing voters. Instead, it became a referendum on who actually leads the opposition. Pauline Hanson walked away looking like the preferred alternative to Anthony Albanese's government, while Angus Taylor, still commanding the second-largest bloc in parliament, found himself playing to a crowd that had already made up its mind about who they wanted.
The optics alone told the story. Taylor spoke first, his office billing his address as a "keynote," but CPAC had marketed all three leaders—Taylor, Hanson, and Nationals' Matt Canavan—as equal headliners. That was a gamble for a Liberal leader whose party still holds far more seats than One Nation's five members. The risk became apparent when Hanson took the stage afterward and literally occupied the seat Taylor had just left during back-to-back interviews with Karl Stefanovic. It was the kind of moment that didn't need commentary.
Taylor came armed with policy. He apologized for past Liberal mistakes—immigration increases, pandemic spending, net zero commitments—and promised his party was now "unashamedly on the right." He hit the conservative talking points hard: big government, climate bureaucracy, NDIS fraud, socialism. Days before the conference, he'd announced a new immigration crackdown that would raise net overseas migration from 100,000 to 160,000 annually. It was a calculated move to reclaim ground One Nation had been eating into. The crowd booed anyway. When he dodged questions about working more closely with Hanson, the heckling intensified.
Hanson arrived to a standing ovation before she'd even spoken. Her campaign video, set to Vanessa Amorosi's "Amazing," played to a room that was already hers. Her speech was tighter than usual, more scripted. She spoke to economic pain, anger at climate policies, frustration with "mass migration," and resentment of "elitists." Nearly every line landed. She criticized the Coalition as out of touch—dismissing the idea of a "smarmy management consultant" replacing Albanese—but she kept signaling that the right could work together if the pieces fell into place.
The question of how that cooperation might actually function remained deliberately vague. In a press conference afterward, Hanson ruled out formal coalition arrangements. She said One Nation wouldn't take ministry positions in a Liberal government, and she wouldn't accept Liberal ministers in a One Nation government. But when asked whether she'd continue attacking the Coalition or whether cooperation might emerge, she offered a single sentence that hung in the air: it was "up to Angus Taylor." She was keeping the door open while making clear that Taylor would have to walk through it on her terms.
Taylor's appearance at CPAC made strategic sense. Eight months after Sussan Ley's removal as Liberal leader, the Coalition's vote was still collapsing. One Nation was siphoning off voters on the right. A sitting opposition leader appearing at a conservative conference was itself unusual—the first time a Liberal leader had done so. But the demographic in that Brisbane convention center skewed more hardline than the centrist voters the Coalition actually needed to win back. Taylor was fishing in a pond where the catch had already chosen a different angler.
The broader problem for Taylor is structural and unforgiving. He needs to reclaim the center to have any chance at government. But the activated conservative base—the people in that room—are moving rightward, and they're listening to Hanson. His speech on fiscal discipline and policy detail couldn't compete with her message of anger and outsider credibility. The loudest applause he received came when he railed against socialism, not when he explained tax policy. For a leader trying to position himself as a serious alternative government, that gap between what he was offering and what his audience wanted to hear may be impossible to close.
Citations marquantes
It was up to Angus Taylor— Pauline Hanson, on whether One Nation would cooperate with the Coalition
Made mistakes but now unashamedly on the right— Angus Taylor, in his CPAC address
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