TORONTO - Randy Hillier has been called many things during his fledgling political career: troublemaker, small-town hick, the enfant terrible of the Ontario Tories.

But there's one label that few would expect to see on the right-wing rookie's colourful resume: kingmaker.

Yet the rural activist may end up crowning the next Progressive Conservative leader if he finishes last in the race -- a quirk of the party's voting system.

If no candidate wins a clear majority on the first round of counting, securing the No. 2 spot on the preferential ballot could be crucial for victory.

And if Hillier's supporters end up tipping the scales, he'll have the ear of the new leader -- which may have been his plan all along.

"I don't think for a minute he thought he could win, although God knows ... with politicians, it's kind of amazing what they come to believe about themselves at times," says Bryan Evans, a politics professor at Toronto's Ryerson University.

"But I think his real objective -- and it's a good tried-and-true political tactic -- is to influence the policy direction and the agenda of the party."

Hillier, 51, has already made his controversial promise to scrap Ontario's Human Rights Commission and Human Rights Tribunal the most talked-about issue of the leadership campaign.

He's vowed to bring Senate elections to Ontario, ban compulsory memberships in unions and other professional associations, undo the Mike Harris-era amalgamation of municipalities, and revamp immigration rules to "get the bad apples out."

Don't count on any big social programs from his camp. "Justice is the most important social policy," he says.

The self-described libertarian wants to steer the party towards true conservatism, including smaller government, fewer regulations and a more participatory democracy. Compassion, he says, existed long before Queen's Park.

"The purpose is to win and, just as equally, is to influence the direction of the party," he says of his campaign.

"I believe Conservatives only win when we are clearly conservatives in nature, and we lose when we try to be something other than conservatives."

Considered to be the most right-wing member of the Tory caucus, Hillier has courted controversy since he first arrived on the political scene.

He's perhaps best known as the former president of the Lanark Landowners Association, which once sent a picture of a dead deer to Liberal cabinet minister Leona Dombrowsky with her name written on the photo.

In the lead-up to the 2007 provincial election, Hillier threatened to run his own slate of Independent candidates in some rural ridings if former leader John Tory blocked his nomination as a Conservative.

Throughout his leadership campaign, Hillier has broken the rules.

He launched his bid from the legislature's media studio, even though such presentations are strictly verboten. He was booted from question period for calling the Liberals liars -- a big no-no -- and refusing to retract the remark.

But there's more to Hillier than his image as a suspender-wearing eastern Ontario hick with a talent for headline-grabbing stunts.

Between drags of his cigarette and sips of no-name coffee, he talks animatedly about 18th century French politician Frederic Bastiat.

The former electrician and federal civil servant is a keen student of history and counts Thomas Jefferson, Winston Churchill, Wilfrid Laurier and Sir John A. MacDonald among his idols.

Like his heroes, he prides himself in going against the grain, even if draws the ire of pundits who believe Hillier's leadership would be disastrous for the party.

"I don't tow the party line. I do break rules that are unfair," he says.

"Henry David Thoreau broke rules. Rosa Parks broke rules. Was Rosa Parks a disaster for the civil rights movement in the United States? I don't think so."

Born in Cyrville -- now part of Ottawa -- Hillier was the sixth of eight children. His parents moved to Ontario from Newfoundland after it joined Confederation in 1949, and set up a TV repair business.

At the age of five, he got his first taste of politics when his parents took him to a polling station to see them vote for the Progressive Conservatives in the 1963 federal election. He was hooked.

Hillier, who lives in Perth, Ont., won his own seat in the provincial legislature in 2007, representing the rural riding of Lanark-Frontenac-Lennox and Addington.

He and his wife Jane have four children: Russell, 26, who works for Conservative MP Rob Anders in Calgary; Dillon, 21, who's training with the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry; Clayton, 16, and daughter Chelsea, 23.

A devout conservative, Hillier has been known to pursue his convictions even to the point of sacrificing a political advantage.

At the Tory convention in February, he lobbied members to scrap the party's 100-point riding rule.

It ensures that all ridings across Ontario are equally weighted in one-member, one-vote leadership elections, preventing population-heavy areas like Toronto from dominating the vote.

Eliminating it would have hurt Hillier, who draws much of his support from rural areas.

Asked why he pursued it, Hillier gives a Cheshire-like grin: "How can you level the playing field on equality?"