Peter Dutton saying no to the Indigenous voice, or saying maybe but meaning no, is not a cost-free exercise | Katharine Murphy

Anthony Albanese had floated into the chamber flanked by Sean Turnell, the academic economist recently released by the military junta in Myanmar. Labor MPs were ebullient because they had won an election, tracked through the transition without any major cock-ups, and made it to the end of the parliamentary year with all their initial policy objectives achieved. The opening months of the new Albanese government had been sure-footed. Better still, there had been moments of luck. In politics, persistent luck feels like a blessing from a divine power.

While Dutton stalled for Australia, David Littleproud dialled things up to eleven. The Nationals leader used the final parliamentary sitting week of the year to confirm the junior Coalition partner would oppose an Indigenous voice to parliament enshrined in the constitution. If this caught you by surprise, let me walk you through the internals.

In National party terms, Littleproud is a progressive. He is also personally close to Albanese, who has sunk a chunk of political capital into getting the voice done. Littleproud and Albanese bonded late in 2017, during a parliamentary delegation to New Delhi, Mumbai and Hyderabad. This was an eccentric little excursion: two future party leaders, a future Speaker of the House of Representatives (Milton Dick), the Liberal Ian Goodenough, and Pauline Hanson, zipping around the cultural sites of India, and having a quiet beer in the evenings. A friendship formed there persists.

Conservatives in the Nationals party room have harboured suspicion for months that Littleproud might seek to engineer them into a position of supporting the voice, or at least running dead. Conservatives had no intention of allowing that to happen. If Littleproud intended to indulge his comparative progressivism on this particular issue, then they intended to run him down.

People familiar with the dynamic say as parliament entered its final fortnight for the year, the Nationals were getting edgy. Some MPs were worried the Liberals might be close to landing a conscience vote position on the voice, which might render a hard no position more politically fraught for the Nationals.

The position was no. After Littleproud fronted reporters, flanked by colleagues, to deliver the news, angst escalated. Wyatt was clearly furious, and sick of coddling former colleagues with closed minds and hearts. One of the architects of the Uluru statement, Noel Pearson, eviscerated Littleproud as a kindergarten child, handing a compelling word picture to the political cartoonists of Australia. The ensuing WTF thunderclap was startling enough to prompt a handful of Nationals to ease out from the display of unity and differentiate their positions.

But it is also possible the stalling could end with the Liberals landing where the Nationals have. Some in the government suspect Dutton is demanding spades of detail in part to enable opponents of the voice to split the yes vote and torpedo the reform. This theory is perfectly plausible, given death by weaponised nitpicking is a minor speciality of Australian conservatives if we cast our minds back to the republican referendum.

We can extend one step beyond that observation to further illustrate the dangers. Just visualise a scenario where Dutton elects to make himself captain of the no team, but Australians ultimately vote yes on the voice.