The next chapter may not be choosing between independents and parties
In Australian politics, where the tension between principle and power is perennial, independent MP Zali Steggall is preparing to cross a threshold that her own movement once defined itself against: becoming a formal political party. The teal independents rose precisely because voters were weary of party machinery, yet Steggall now argues that survival in a fragmenting parliament demands the very structure they rejected. It is a paradox as old as reform itself — that movements born outside institutions must eventually decide whether to transform them or be consumed by them.
- Electoral reforms passed jointly by Labor and the Coalition have tightened spending and donation rules, squeezing the financial oxygen that independent campaigns depend on.
- One Nation's resurgence has sharpened the stakes, forcing teal MPs to confront whether a loose coalition of individuals can hold ground against organized political forces.
- The movement is already splitting at the seams — three Sydney-based teal MPs are open to joining, while Monique Ryan, Kate Chaney, and Andrew Wilkie have each firmly closed the door.
- Steggall's proposed party would target Senate seats, where the balance of power offers real legislative leverage rather than symbolic crossbench presence.
- The announcement may come this week with Steggall standing largely alone, leaving the door open for others to join as the 2028 election draws closer.
Zali Steggall is preparing to formalize what the teal movement never quite became: an actual political party. An announcement could come as early as this week, following months of private strategy sessions among the independent MPs who have reshaped Australian politics since their emergence as an electoral force.
The logic behind the move is counterintuitive but pointed. Last year, Labor and the Coalition passed electoral reforms — spending caps, donation limits — that made independent campaigns harder to sustain. Then One Nation's rise underscored a deeper vulnerability: without formal organization, teal MPs risk losing relevance in an increasingly fragmented parliament. Steggall's argument is that a party structure need not replicate the top-down machinery of the major parties — communities could still choose their own candidates — but that operating as a party is now necessary to preserve the movement's influence.
Not everyone is persuaded. Three of her Sydney colleagues — Allegra Spender, Sophie Scamps, and Nicolette Boele — are open to the idea, though none has publicly committed. Monique Ryan was direct in her refusal, saying she ran as an independent because Australians are tired of parties and she intends to remain one. Kate Chaney and Andrew Wilkie have taken the same position. "Joining a party is not how I roll," Wilkie said, though he offered Steggall his goodwill.
The proposed party would likely focus on winning Senate seats, where crossbenchers have historically held greater sway over legislation. That is the strategic prize: not just representation, but genuine influence in a hung parliament. Steggall appears ready to launch alone and leave the door open for others as 2028 approaches — betting that formalization will strengthen the teal brand rather than betray it.
Zali Steggall is about to do something the teal movement never quite managed to do as a loose coalition: formalize itself into an actual political party. An announcement could come as soon as this week, according to people briefed on months of private strategy sessions about the future of the independent MPs who have reshaped Australian politics over the past few years. The timing matters. The teal MPs emerged as a force partly because voters were exhausted with traditional party structures. Now Steggall is arguing that the only way to preserve that force is to become one.
The case she has been making to her colleagues is straightforward, if counterintuitive. Last year, Labor and the Coalition jointly passed electoral reforms—spending caps, donation limits—designed to make life harder for independents. Then One Nation's rise forced a reckoning: without formal organization, teal MPs risk becoming irrelevant in a parliament that is fragmenting. Steggall's pitch, laid out in a recent opinion piece and in private briefings to her peers, is that a party structure need not replicate the top-down machinery of the majors. Communities could choose their own candidates. The party would operate differently. It would just operate as a party.
But the movement is already fracturing over the idea. Three of Steggall's Sydney colleagues—Allegra Spender, Sophie Scamps, and Nicolette Boele—are open to it, though none has publicly committed. Two others are not. Monique Ryan, the Kooyong MP, was blunt when asked about joining: she ran as an independent because Australians are tired of parties, and she intends to stay one. Kate Chaney has taken the same position. Andrew Wilkie, who represents a different strain of crossbench politics, also ruled it out. "Joining a party is not how I roll," he said, though he wished Steggall well.
The structure of what Steggall is proposing remains vague. Her op-ed suggested it would combine "the strengths of both" the independent model and party organization. The party would likely target Senate seats, where crossbenchers have a better chance of holding the balance of power and actually shaping legislation. That's the real prize: not just winning seats, but wielding influence in a hung parliament. It's a gamble that formalization will strengthen rather than dilute the teal brand.
For now, Steggall appears ready to launch alone. Sources close to the talks expect her to make the announcement herself and leave the door open for others to join as the 2028 election approaches. The opposition leader, Angus Taylor, dismissed the whole thing by pointing out that teal MPs have already functioned as a de facto party for years. He's not entirely wrong. But there is a difference between acting like a party and being one—in how you raise money, how you field candidates, how you negotiate with other parties, how you hold your members accountable. Steggall seems to believe that difference matters now, even if it once seemed like a betrayal of everything the teal movement stood for.
Citas Notables
Australians are understandably really fed up with political parties and that's why they're looking for other alternatives. I don't have any intention of joining a party.— Monique Ryan, Kooyong MP
Joining a party is not how I roll. All strength to those who might start a party, and I hope it is a success.— Andrew Wilkie, independent MP
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would Steggall push for a formal party structure when the whole appeal of the teal movement was that it wasn't one?
Because the rules changed. The electoral reforms last year were designed to hurt independents. Without organization, they become vulnerable. A party gives you infrastructure—fundraising, candidate selection, negotiating power.
But doesn't that risk alienating the voters who elected them precisely because they weren't party politicians?
That's the bet she's making. She's arguing you can have party structure without party culture—that communities still choose candidates, that accountability stays local. Whether voters believe that is another question.
Why are some teal MPs so firmly against it?
They were elected on the promise of independence. Joining a party feels like breaking that promise, even if the party is different. For Ryan and Chaney, the principle matters more than the strategic advantage.
What happens if Steggall launches alone?
She becomes the first member of a party that may never grow. But she also keeps the option open for others to join later, closer to the election, when the political calculus might shift.
Does this actually help the crossbench, or does it weaken it by dividing it?
That's the central tension. A unified party could wield real power in a hung parliament. But if it fractures the movement, it might accomplish the opposite.