Imagine a cattle farmer so fed up with the state of Australian politics that he decides to throw his hat into the ring for leadership of the Nationals. But here’s where it gets controversial: Colin Boyce, a plain-speaking Queenslander, isn’t just any farmer—he’s a man who’s made waves by crossing party lines, cozying up to One Nation, and openly dismissing climate science. Now, he’s gunning for the top job, claiming he’s ‘furious’ about the Coalition’s implosion. But can a self-proclaimed maverick like Boyce really unite a party in crisis? And this is the part most people miss: his rise isn’t just about ambition—it’s a reflection of deeper fractures within Australian conservatism.
When Boyce first entered the Queensland Parliament in 2017, his biggest opposition came from One Nation. Fast forward three years, and he’d not only won over their leader, Pauline Hanson, but also secured her party’s endorsement in his seat of Callide. His vote surged by 24%, a feat he attributed to the wisdom of Sun Tzu: ‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.’ Boyce’s strategy? Blunt rhetoric and a willingness to defy his own party, like when he crossed the floor on a mining rehabilitation bill and delivered a climate speech arguing we should ‘celebrate’ global heating. Yes, you read that right.
This week, Boyce announced his bid for the Nationals leadership, blasting the party’s current state as ‘a complete debacle.’ He’s been a loyal supporter of former leader Barnaby Joyce, who recently jumped ship to One Nation. But Boyce insists he’s staying put—though he admits others might follow Joyce’s lead. Critics, including many in his own party, call his leadership bid nonsensical, arguing he lacks the support to succeed. Yet Boyce frames his move as a last-ditch effort to save the Coalition, even as he subtly undermines Liberal leader Sussan Ley.
Here’s the real kicker: Boyce isn’t just a rebel; he’s a climate skeptic with a track record of provocative statements. He’s a founding member of the Saltbush Club, a group that denies climate science and claims there’s no climate emergency. In 2020, he labeled renewable energy a ‘fantasy’ in Facebook ads. After an explosion at the Callide coal-fired power station, he blamed ‘eco-Marxist millennials’ and ‘wokes’ for opposing coal. And in a leaked 2024 meeting, he called blackouts a ‘big political opportunity,’ urging colleagues to adopt a ‘do-nothing strategy’ to stoke opposition to net zero policies.
At 62, Boyce has never been seen as frontbench material by his peers. Former Queensland Deputy Premier Cameron Dick once quipped, ‘Colin Boyce was a crank, but at least he never pretended to be anything else.’ Yet Boyce’s unapologetic stance has earned him a loyal following among those who share his views. The question now is whether his brand of conservatism can appeal beyond the backbench—or if the Nationals will remain a party in disarray.
But here’s the bigger question: Is Boyce’s rise a symptom of the Nationals’ identity crisis, or a bold attempt to redefine the party’s future? And what does his candidacy say about the state of Australian politics? Love him or hate him, Boyce is forcing a conversation about where the Nationals—and the country—are headed. What do you think? Is Boyce the leader the Nationals need, or just another symptom of their decline? Let’s hear your thoughts in the comments.
