Barnaby Joyce, the Nationals star who unravelled before us

Updated

He's been described by colleagues as a loner, a genius, authentic, and a narcissist. Here's the story of how the former Nationals leader brought himself undone.

Ten days after news first broke of Barnaby Joyce's inter-office affair and the impending birth of a baby, he made a call to the ABC.

Politically, Joyce was already on the ropes, but he was fighting on and refusing to budge as Nationals leader.

Putting out spot-fires. Trying to get ahead of the story.

Joyce sounded stressed on the phone, saying he had been told there was another article coming about him, arguing he deserved the right of reply, the right to defend himself.

There was nothing in the works. He quickly hung up.

Weeks later, it was the ABC calling. This time, there was a story. But Joyce didn't respond.

The man with one name

Fourteen years earlier, Joyce cut a lonely figure in the virtually deserted Senate offices, spending his Friday afternoon working to the tick of the clock.

The freshly elected Queensland senator had hundreds of pages of legislation — covered in post-it notes and annotations — strewn in front of him.

He was poring over the detail of John Howard's controversial industrial relations reform, WorkChoices, concerned it would be damaging for ordinary Australians.

Joyce was fastidious about getting across the detail, and went to war with the Liberals on their policy.

In doing so, he made his mark as the man in the Coalition willing to put his neck on the line for his constituents.

And he became a household name.

From the moment Joyce ran for pre-selection, his personality has been king.

His predecessor Warren Truss recalls the day Joyce put himself forward in Queensland, in 2004.

"Barnaby was Barnaby. He captured the mood of the place, and won without the support of the party hierarchy," Truss remembers.

But the "Barnaby" approach raised eyebrows when he arrived in Canberra.

The Nationals leader at the time, John Anderson (pictured below), was wary from the beginning.

"My style was very heavily weighted to organising things behind closed doors and presenting a unified front," Anderson explains.

"So I had concerns, the same as anyone who has one approach might have reservations about another person's approach."

And while Joyce has long claimed to be deeply devoted to fighting for the Aussie battler, his critics are convinced he's driven equally by a desire to be in the media spotlight.

"It's always been about him, not the broader community," another National Party elder, who didn't want to be named, told the ABC.

"He's never been part of the team. He's a loner."

But it was often in the National Party's interest for Joyce to be making headlines. And sometimes, loners become leaders.

Riding high

Truss was regarded as an inclusive, calm and methodical leader. In his opinion, calling Barnaby Joyce a loner is "a bit unkind".

Asked whether descriptions of Joyce like "narcissist", "authentic" and "genius" ring true, he says they all "have an element of truth about them".

He admits that working with him was "always a challenge" but recalls how Joyce "mellowed" when he moved from the Senate to the House of Representatives.

"As he moved into leadership positions, he realised he couldn't be 'everything' and he became much more of a team player."

Joyce grew on Anderson too, who went on to chair his 2013 New England election campaign.

"He won my support as a person equipped to lead the National Party," Anderson says.

By the time Truss was ready to retire, he felt Joyce had become "much more disciplined" and noted the party room was behind him.

Joyce's first year as deputy prime minister went smoothly and was marked by the Nationals' success in the 2016 election.

The party picked up an extra seat and Joyce won a cut-throat battle against his political nemesis, Tony Windsor.

Joyce celebrated the victory on stage at a pub in Tamworth, with his wife Natalie and their four daughters.

Natalie Joyce had been a fixture for most of her husband's campaign, and she was there, along with his elderly parents, when he cast his vote at his old primary school, in Woolbrook.

The sun was shining and the sky was clear when the couple walked hand-in-hand towards the ballot box that day.

Internal National Party polling had shown he was a sure bet to win, but Joyce maintained modesty for the cameras and told reporters he was "confident, not cocky".

Joyce's victory in New England was convincing and left the Nationals riding high. But more than a year later, he was forced back to the Woolbrook ballot box by a High Court ruling on his Kiwi ancestry.

This time, the sky was grey, dark clouds loomed and the rain had started to fall. And his wife Natalie was nowhere to be seen.

It all starts to unravel

Before the by-election, the Daily Telegraph had reported that there was turmoil in Joyce's private life and that one of his staff had moved offices.

Rumours had been circulating for months that he'd been sleeping with his media adviser Vikki Campion.

Some key Nationals MPs and party figures have subsequently told the ABC they knew there was an affair, including Truss, who says he found out about it in September. He learned about the baby in October.

Truss says "everyone seemed to know" about the affair during the by-election, but that voters were giving Joyce the "benefit of the doubt" because the campaign was so "bitter".

Windsor and his former adviser John Clements had been agitating on social media with cryptic and cutting attacks regarding Joyce's conduct.

Reporters were aware of their allegations, which hadn't been proven.

By the time Joyce cast his vote and fronted the media in Woolbrook, he looked tired and wrung-out.

Journalists stuck to peppering him with questions about his colleagues going rogue in Canberra, and other political matters.

After he'd driven away, one reporter turned to another and lamented:

"Why the f*** aren't we asking him about his affair?"

But nobody in the press had proof or enough substance to justify such a question.

Campion first went to work for Joyce during the 2016 federal election campaign.

Some party insiders recall them looking "close" back then, but didn't think much of it at the time.

He was impressed with Campion's social media skills, and in August, brought her on to work in Canberra as his junior press secretary.

In the following months, a press gallery journalist overheard a drunken Campion lamenting that she was "in love with someone she shouldn't be" and that she "didn't know what to do".

The following February, two press gallery journalists out for a Sunday stroll in the Queanbeyan Gorge spotted Joyce and Campion on the track.

Then came the salacious rumour that Campion was pregnant with Joyce's child. It was ugly. The tabloids went on the hunt for photographs of the pair but published nothing.

Even if it was found that they were having an affair, what was the public interest?

The media struggled with how far the bar had to be set for newsworthy stories. As one reporter expressed it:

"'Rooting' is a stretch — but 'rooting and rorting' would be fair game."

Despite enquiries and freedom of information requests being lodged, there was no evidence of rorting.

Here come the tears

Campion wasn't the only change Joyce made after the federal election. He shocked the press gallery by dumping his widely respected senior media adviser, Gerard McManus.

McManus was a straight-shooter who'd been hired to help Joyce make a smooth transition to the House of Representatives.

Sources close to Joyce's office suggest that with that accomplished, Joyce decided he needed someone more willing to invest in the 'politics'.

He hired LNP operative Jake Smith, who was known as a political player in Queensland.

It was a controversial choice.

Smith was a charming, smooth-talking spin doctor who spent his spare time collecting imperial menus from dinners hosted by monarchs like Queen Victoria, and cooking elaborate dishes such as stuffed boar's head and marzipan.

Truss was familiar with Smith's work in Queensland. He describes him as a "divisive character" who "manages to put a lot of people offside" but who has "grown up" since joining Joyce's office.

With his new staff in place, journalists noticed the deputy prime minister became less approachable, which seemed understandable given his high position in office.

But by early 2017, there were signs of trouble and chaos in his team. The woman tasked with keeping Joyce in line was his then-chief of staff, Diana Hallam.

She was known for running an efficient and competent office, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to manage her boss's situation.

About that time, Joyce and Campion were spotted amicably smoking cigarettes in a courtyard, where many members of Parliament had front-row seats to their increasing closeness.

People were talking. And staff in the office were stressed.

The ABC has subsequently been told that some staff members were tearful, as they feared the affair would be Joyce's downfall and they would lose their jobs.

Some Nationals have told the ABC privately that Joyce lacked focus during that time, and Truss says he's heard "in recent months" about the "chaos" in the office.

Truss, who was known for being extremely thorough as a cabinet minister, reveals "there was a view that developed, particularly in latter years, that Barnaby wasn't always on top of his brief".

But he notes that approach is "not uncommon in government", on both sides. Truss puts it like this:

"Barnaby was certainly focused on the things that mattered to him, I don't think he was focused on detail for detail's sake."

Senior sources have told the ABC that by last year, it had become difficult to get Joyce to juggle his ministerial responsibilities.

Insiders say Hallam — along with other members of Parliament and senior Nationals staffers — had been encouraging Joyce to move Campion out of his office.

In April, Campion took a job in Queensland senator Matt Canavan's office, with a promotion that came with a reported pay rise of $5,000.

She had been well regarded in her role, but opponents of Joyce later questioned whether she was given favourable treatment because of their relationship.

Even the Prime Minister was forced to defend the appointment as proper.

By June, a frustrated Hallam had resigned and over the next six months, there were three other chiefs of staff in Joyce's office.

Smith was the last of them.

Front-page news

Last month, when the Daily Telegraph controversially splashed a photo of a pregnant Campion across its front page, the National Party appeared ill-prepared for the political and public furore.

The newspaper reported the couple was having an affair and expecting a baby in April.

Reporter Sharri Markson had previously emailed Joyce's media adviser Smith to offer an alternative — a sit-down feature with the couple. But the opportunity wasn't taken up.

Smith had managed to keep the story of the affair out of the media for months, but there were moments of oddness — particularly during the December by-election — that exposed Joyce's vulnerabilities and raised questions about his judgement.

The by-election could've been a major tipping point for Joyce.

He was under enormous personal and political pressure and there had been short-lived discussions within Nationals ranks about whether he was emotionally fit to run.

His 24-year marriage had recently collapsed, his job was on the line and Campion was almost five months pregnant.

But he pushed ahead with the campaign — a tour of New England drinking holes and local projects — and charmed local supporters by simply being "Barnaby".

Farmers at the Tamworth saleyards pledged to vote for him because he was a "straight talker" and a "good bloke".

But Joyce was about to make a big mistake.

The Nationals had been trying to run a low-key, local campaign but Joyce deviated from that strategy when he elected to fly to Canberra to attend an event hosted by benefactor, donor and billionaire Gina Rinehart.

He took to the stage to accept a giant novelty cheque for $40,000 from her for being a "Champion of Agriculture".

Agricultural leaders at the event were aghast. Rinehart's was a new prize that mystified many when it went to Joyce, the agriculture minister, rather than a hard-working farmer.

Joyce put out a statement the following morning saying he had "politely" declined the award.

But it fuelled a sentiment amongst some in the rural sector that Joyce — who has long fought to preserve the family farm — had sold out to the big end of town.

After the story about his affair broke, it was revealed Joyce was living rent-free, with Campion, in an apartment owned by another millionaire friend and National Party donor.

The straw that broke the camel's back

Believability had always been Joyce's trademark, but the news of his impending baby left some of his supporters uncomfortable.

The National Party prides itself on "family values", and Joyce was no exception.

Some in the party worried the Nationals would lose female voters. One former staffer said Joyce had lots of female fans but was also a "blokes' bloke".

He enjoyed a beer — or many — and at times would leap onto the bar to hold court.

In recent years, that mixture of travel and late nights was considered a problem internally.

A senior political operative working for the Government saw it as part of their job to make sure he was home early.

Despite Joyce's affair being the talk of the town and federal politics, he dug in and refused to resign as National Party leader.

His colleagues mulled anxiously over how to deal with him without a messy coup.

But the revelation a woman had made an allegation of sexual harassment and misconduct to the National Party against him was, in Joyce's own words, the "straw that broke the camel's back."

Prominent West Australian pastoralist Catherine Marriott, who had wanted her complaint and name kept private, was disappointed it was leaked to the media.

Marriott has since released a statement trying to explain her decision to make the complaint, and to answer those — including Joyce — who have criticised her for not taking the matter to police.

"This complaint was made not only to address the incident against me, it was about speaking up against inappropriate behaviour by people in powerful positions," Marriott wrote.

"The additional stress of having to go through this publicly and with people's judgement is the exact reason people don't come forward."

Country Women's Association president Dorothy Coombe says it's unfair the complaint wasn't kept confidential, and that it's hard for one woman to bear the "brunt" in becoming the face of an issue.

In the wake of the complaint, deputy Nationals leader Bridget McKenzie also questioned why a criminal complaint had not been made, but she acknowledged a culture of sexual harassment in "hyper-masculine working environments" exists in some industries.

Since then, an internal party document has surfaced that records a phone call in which WA Nationals MP Terry Redman warns a colleague there could be up to 10 complaints against Joyce, ranging from "inappropriate behaviour" to "more serious allegations".

Joyce described Marriott's complaint as "spurious and defamatory" and the suggestion of others as "patently absurd".

In response to questions from the ABC about the Redman call, Joyce reiterated that anybody who had an allegation should take it to the police.

"That gives those people who put forward the allegation the right to pursue it and, most importantly, my right to defend it," he said.

"Otherwise all we're doing is hanging these words out there and I think that's totally unfair."

But in the lead-up to Marriott's complaint and before his resignation, Joyce was frantic. His colleagues were anxious about his fragile and precarious situation.

It was then he made that stressed phone call to the ABC, demanding to know if a story was coming.

He did not reveal what story he was expecting. He just wanted to have his say if there was one. But at that stage there wasn't.

Shattered

Joyce has described the media attention surrounding his personal life as a "witch hunt". Back home in his electorate and across the country, there are people who agree wholeheartedly with that.

Stock and station agent Patrick Purtle is a New England resident and Nationals supporter who gave a glowing reference for Joyce ahead of last year's by-election.

"I think Barnaby's got a level of fair-dinkumness about him, if you like," he told the ABC at the Tamworth saleyards in October.

"For all the stuff you see come out of Canberra, there's one bloke who seems to remain relevant to the people."

Purtle now admits that some of that lustre has faded.

"I'm 101 per cent disappointed," he says.

"Plenty of blokes backed him to the hilt, me included."

He says some people had felt a "lack of respect" for voters in the way things were handled, and it was a "great shame".

"He's still a bloody great politician, his ability to cut through," he says.

"I'm just disappointed that someone I see as a great advocate for the bush has had his position terminated. His ability to make change for the bush has been affected 10-fold."

One farmer privately said Joyce had revealed himself to be a hypocrite — conjuring up the suggestion he's all hat, no cattle.

But Purtle says there's still a lot of support for the local member, while acknowledging it's been tempered by recent events.

"I guess you're only ever as good as your last game," he says.

"It will be hard to see him come back with the same authenticity now."

Joyce — and other senior party figures — haven't ruled out a comeback, but the chances look slim.

Some Nationals the ABC has spoken to remain disappointed and say they'll do everything they can to keep him strapped to the backbench.

And while he's apologised to his party room for the mess he's caused, some critics feel he hasn't technically apologised for his behaviour.

They're furious he has repeatedly raised his head in the media, rather than keeping a low profile.

Party elders like Truss have watched Joyce's career collapse and note he's become increasingly erratic in recent weeks.

"To sum it up, I've got a lot of respect for Barnaby," Truss says, before adding that "impressed is too strong a word".

"He's never been a great listener, never particularly willing to embrace other ideas. But all that had mellowed and I'm shattered it's happened like this."

Now the party has to start over, with Michael McCormack as its new low-key leader. He'll have to manage deep divisions, whilst trying to raise his own profile.

Loyalty and unity are the values at the heart of the National Party.

But one man managed to almost shatter that, derailing the Government's agenda for weeks, and creating agony for the Nationals family as well as his own.

What should I read next?

Credits

Reporters: Lucy Barbour and Anna Henderson

Producer: Lucy Sweeney

Editor: Louise Yaxley

Topics: joyce-barnaby, nationals, political-parties, federal-government, government-and-politics, australia

First posted