The political landscape is shifting, and the center is up for grabs. The Coalition is crumbling, and a power vacuum is forming. But here's where it gets intriguing: a new movement is stirring, one that could reshape Australia's political future. This isn’t just about filling a void; it’s about redefining what it means to be a centrist in today’s polarized world.
Nearly a decade ago, former Liberal Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser envisioned a political party that embodied social justice, ethical governance, climate action, and genuine liberal values. He called it Renew Australia. Though his plan stalled after his death in 2015, the underlying sentiment—that the Liberal Party had abandoned its centrist roots—never faded. Now, that idea is resurfacing with renewed urgency.
And this is the part most people miss: Over the past six months, informal discussions have been brewing in Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide. These conversations involve a diverse group—former Liberal moderates, ex-Coalition staffers, teal MPs, retired Labor figures, community organizers, and even donors who once backed the Liberal Party’s business wing. No one is claiming leadership, and no manifesto has been unveiled. Many participants prefer anonymity, especially those in roles requiring public impartiality. But they all share a common diagnosis: the Liberal Party may no longer be capable of reclaiming its center-right identity. They’re also deeply concerned about the health of democracy when governments lack effective opposition.
Former Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull recently echoed this sentiment, warning that the Liberal Party is heading down a dead-end street. “The right-wing element has taken over the Liberal Party,” he told Capital Brief. “There are very few moderates left in the party room. That’s why the talk of a split misses the point.” Turnbull didn’t dismiss the idea of a new political force, suggesting a center or center-right movement combining disaffected Liberals and teal independents is “not inevitable but certainly possible.”
But here’s where it gets controversial: Turnbull later told The Guardian, “To be honest, I think it would be healthy if we had a more effective opposition.” This statement raises a provocative question: Is the current political system failing to represent the majority, and if so, what’s the solution?
Recent polling supports this growing unease. The Liberal Party’s primary vote has plummeted to the mid-20s, while One Nation has surged into the high teens. More than 40% of voters are now looking beyond the major parties. Could March’s state election in South Australia be the tipping point where these informal talks solidify into something concrete?
A model emerging from these discussions draws heavily from the teal playbook: a Senate-first strategy, selective lower-house contests, climate credibility paired with pro-business economics, and deep local organizing. Self-styled centrist independents have already proven this approach’s effectiveness. In 2019 and 2022, community-backed candidates toppled Liberal strongholds in Sydney, Melbourne, and Perth. In 2025, independents continued their momentum, winning seats like Bradfield and finishing second in several Labor-held constituencies.
Those still within the Liberal Party describe a sense of political suffocation. Preselection is dominated by branch activists, policies are narrowed by culture-war signaling, and influence is concentrated among factions uninterested in metropolitan recovery. As one former frontbencher privately noted, “The party room doesn’t look like the country—or even like the Liberal Party that last won government.”
This mismatch has reignited discussions of a centrist breakaway. While Turnbull has been rumored to be involved, he’s publicly denied it. “Malcolm knows that any new party isn’t going to be helped if it looks like it’s his project,” one organizer, speaking anonymously, explained.
The unnamed grouping is also drawing inspiration from international models, such as Prosper UK—a movement aiming to pull Britain’s Conservative Party back to the center—and Faculty AI, the startup behind Dominic Cummings’ Vote Leave campaign. They’ve also consulted leading international government digital services advisers and transformation specialists.
One vocal supporter is Hannah March, an Adelaide-based barrister and former ministerial staffer. “At a national level, it is certainly worth considering a split into the Liberal Party and the Conservative Party,” she says. “The Liberal, Conservative, and National parties, along with any community independent who wants to help shape Australia’s future, should consider a broad coalition to help take Australia forward.”
Advocates stress that MPs would retain independence, voting on laws as a matter of conscience, especially on issues affecting their constituencies. However, key questions remain. What’s in it for the teals to align with a party structure? And who could lead such a party? Some suggest Allegra Spender as an obvious choice, but as one Liberal wryly observed, “Can you imagine that group of people—all with main-character energy—voluntarily ceding the spotlight?”
Proponents point to the success of En Marche (now Renaissance), the movement that propelled Emmanuel Macron to the French presidency just a year after its inception. Unlike traditional powerhouses, it achieved dominance without established institutions, grassroots protest roots, or a pre-existing celebrity figure.
However, new federal political donation laws, effective July 1, complicate matters. The reforms cap individual donations at $50,000, lower the disclosure threshold to $5,000, and impose spending limits of $800,000 per electorate and $90 million nationally. Several teal independents, including Zoe Daniel and Rex Patrick, have challenged these changes in the High Court.
Graeme Orr, a law professor at the University of Queensland, notes that the reforms cut both ways. While they reward organization over billionaire backing, they don’t shut the door on new entrants. “It’s not like the limits are really low,” he says. “It’s like $90 million in electioneering for a party.”
Cathy McGowan, who won Indi in Victoria in 2013 with a “kitchen table conversation” campaign, highlights a growing tension. “At an electorate level, people are organizing. They’re wanting much better representation,” she says. “At a national level, they’re wanting a much stronger opposition … and they feel they’re not getting it.”
Not everyone believes a new party is the answer. Lucy Wicks, who held the NSW seat of Robertson from 2013 to 2022, argues that Australia doesn’t need a new centrist party as much as a Liberal Party willing to rediscover its core purpose. “It needs a Liberal Party brave enough to remember what, and who, it stands for, once again,” she says.
Wicks traces her political faith to learning about “reward for effort, individual opportunity, and the belief that your dreams aren’t limited by your birthplace or socio-economic status.” She sees the party’s rejection by communities like Robertson as a loss of connection, not an appetite for a new movement.
This disconnect became personal when her son, Oscar, nearly 17, told her, “Mum, if you weren’t my mum, I reckon socialism sounds pretty good.” Wicks realized the Liberals aren’t connecting with younger generations, who are increasingly influenced by platforms like TikTok. On housing, she warns that policy failures are alienating families the Liberals once championed, particularly women facing retirement insecurity.
John Roskam, a senior fellow at the Institute of Public Affairs, argues that the teals’ success was built on independence, and formalizing an alliance would undercut their appeal. He also disputes the idea that the teal surge reflected a mass exodus of Liberal voters, suggesting much of the vote was tactical.
For moderates inside the Liberal Party, the calculus is complex. Leaving risks surrendering influence within one of the country’s two governing vehicles. “It would require a massive infrastructure effort,” Roskam says, “and while third parties have succeeded in the short term, they rarely last.”
Others are less convinced the party still offers a viable pathway. Some moderates pin their hopes on Victoria, where Opposition Leader Jess Wilson is seen as a potential game-changer in the November state election. A strong showing could bolster the case for recovery. But privately, even optimists admit the problem is structural. The seats that once anchored the moderate wing are now teal, and the remaining membership is more conservative than ever.
“I think the next round of state and federal elections will be the making or the breaking of the party,” says Tony Barry, a former Liberal strategist. “Another round of catastrophic results will give a better insight as to whether the party is institutionally broken and the internal will to reform.”
Labor now occupies much of the center-left, One Nation has carved out a durable slice of the right, and the Liberals have lost cosmopolitan, urban voters. In between sits a substantial group of voters—economically moderate, socially progressive, and deeply climate-conscious—who feel politically homeless. Some in the party aren’t interested in winning them back.
When Don Chipp left the Liberals in 1977 to start the Democrats, many dismissed it as a footnote. It wasn’t. It reshaped a generation of politics. When Malcolm Fraser tried to build an alternative decades later, few paid attention. Today, their diagnosis looks less like a curiosity and more like a warning.
And for the first time in decades, the question of whether a new centrist force could emerge is no longer academic. It is live. The center is up for grabs, and the race to claim it has begun. What do you think? Is a new centrist party the answer, or should the Liberals reform from within? Let us know in the comments.
