This ambiguity has created a political riddle for the Liberal Party, which is currently grappling with its lowest primary vote in decades. A recent Essential poll found the Coalition’s primary support at a record low of 22% in September, down from 25% in January—a figure recorded just before current leader Angus Taylor replaced Sussan Ley. For Taylor, who is eight months into the role and faces a primary vote lower than his predecessor’s at the time of her departure, the specter of a high-profile rival is hardly helpful. The party’s center is eyeing the independent “teal” bloc, while its right flank is increasingly aligning with One Nation, leaving Taylor squeezed in the middle.
Reactions from within the Coalition have been notably lukewarm. Deputy Liberal Leader Jane Hume stated she would welcome Frydenberg back to the front bench, but made it clear any return would place him “behind Angus Taylor” in the pecking order. “We’d like to see our A team line up on the front bench,” Hume said, signaling that the party’s immediate need is for loyalty and stability rather than a leadership shake-up. One Liberal MP warned that the party cannot afford to wait for Frydenberg to “save us,” suggesting that relying on a former leader to reverse electoral fortunes is a risky strategy.
The criticism was more blunt from outside the Coalition. Barnaby Joyce, a One Nation MP who was elected on a Nationals ticket, urged Frydenberg to “cut the BS” regarding his ambitions. Joyce argued that it was transparent that Frydenberg was angling for a future anointment as leader of the opposition, rather than simply returning as a backbencher. “We can all see through this,” Joyce said, highlighting the tension between Frydenberg’s public non-committal and the political reality of his prominence.
The central question echoing through parliamentary circles is whether Frydenberg is the answer to the Liberal Party’s current malaise or if he is “yesterday’s man.” His return would certainly add a well-known face and a policy-focused voice to a team that many believe needs both. However, his previous departure from the seat of Kooyong in 2022—lost to independent Monique Ryan in the “teal wave”—casts a long shadow. That election was supported by Climate 200, a group whose origins trace back to a dispute involving a former donor to Frydenberg’s fundraising vehicle. This history suggests that the very electorate that rejected him may not be the target of his potential comeback.
Frydenberg’s current role as chair of investment bank Goldman Sachs further complicates his political viability. While his energy and intellect are assets, few believe he would willingly trade a well-paid boardroom position for a frontbench seat that does not guarantee the leadership. The question remains whether his persona, comfortable in business lunches and boardrooms, can win back voters who are frustrated with “politics as usual.” At the recent Cpac conference, Pauline Hanson received her loudest cheer when she described Taylor as a “smarmy management consultant.” It is unclear if Frydenberg, with his corporate background, would appeal more to that fringe right-wing base or if he would instead chart a course back toward the political center, where elections are traditionally won.
For now, Frydenberg maintains a posture of neutrality, describing himself as “very content” since leaving politics while admitting that “everyone misses the cut and thrust” of parliamentary life. He has also argued that Australia’s political leaders lack “moral clarity” and that the country needs a “broader policy of self-reliance.” Whether these ideas will translate into a viable political platform for the Liberal Party, or simply serve as promotional material for his book, remains uncertain. The party’s next move will depend on whether Taylor can stabilize his leadership without the distraction of a prodigal son’s potential return.
