Introduction
In the Australian Capital Territory (ACT), a quarter-century of uninterrupted Australian Labor Party (ALP) governance has transformed Canberra’s institutions from beacons of accountability into bastions of impunity. From 2001 to 2025, under Chief Ministers Jon Stanhope, Katy Gallagher, and Andrew Barr, the ACT Labor Government has overseen a gradual but profound erosion of integrity within the public service and justice system. This period of one-party dominance has bred a culture of cronyism, racism and unprofessionalism, where senior public servants and politicians operate with little fear of repercussions. Allegations of dishonesty, political interference and cover-ups have become commonplace, disproportionately impacting vulnerable groups, especially Indigenous Australians. This essay examines this decay through the story of an Aboriginal whistleblower in the ACT Department of Treasury (Treasury), who faced severe retaliation for standing up to racism and corruption, and exposing systemic flaws.
The narrative begins with the Aboriginal whistleblower, who uncovered deeply entrenched racism and misconduct within Treasury as far back as 2002. His revelations should have prompted immediate reforms, but instead they triggered a vicious cycle of retaliation. As I continued to advocate and amplify the original complaints while pushing for justice, I became a target. In 2017, the Australian Federal Police (AFP) levelled 16 fabricated charges against me, ostensibly to silence my efforts. This led to a gruelling trial where I stood alone against a formidable array of senior officials, with only one witness in my corner: the former Chief Executive of ACT Treasury, Mr. Howard Ronaldson. His testimony provided a rare glimpse of honesty amid a sea of deception.
The trial exposed not just individual lies but a systemic failure where senior public servants and politicians evade accountability. Despite a unanimous jury acquittal in my favour, no one has been held responsible for the perjury, racism or misuse of power that saw me charged. This lack of accountability is emblematic of ACT Labor’s 25-year rule, a regime that protects its own while punishing dissenters. Senior officials, shielded by their titles and political connections, lie with impunity, knowing investigations will stall and consequences will never materialise. Politicians meanwhile, turn a blind eye, prioritising party loyalty over public interest. This essay will dissect the historical context of Labor’s dominance, detail the whistleblower’s discoveries and my subsequent ordeal, critique the rampant racism in the public service, expose flaws in the justice system, and highlight the broader implications for citizens. Ultimately, it calls for urgent reforms to dismantle this culture of unaccountability, arguing that without them, the ACT’s institutions will remain hopelessly corrupted.
Historical Context: 25 Years of ACT Labor Rule
The ACT Labor Party’s ascent to power in 2001 under Jon Stanhope marked the beginning of an era that promised progressive governance but delivered entrenched complacency. Stanhope’s administration championed human rights initiatives, such as the 2004 Human Rights Act, yet it quickly revealed a darker side: a willingness to suppress dissent and protect insiders. Early decisions, like the controversial 2006 school closures, disproportionately harmed disadvantaged communities, including Indigenous families, with minimal consultation or accountability. Critics decried this as authoritarianism, but Stanhope faced no real consequences, setting a precedent for impunity that would define the next two decades.
Katy Gallagher’s brief tenure from 2011 to 2014 amplified these issues. Her government grappled with scandals, including allegations of misleading the Legislative Assembly on health data tied to funding, which led to a no-confidence motion. Gallagher survived, but the episode underscored a pattern: politicians could bend the truth without facing dismissal or prosecution. Under her watch, public service appointments increasingly favoured party loyalists, fostering cronyism that insulated senior officials from scrutiny. This era saw fiscal surpluses dwindle, yet no senior public servant was ever disciplined for mismanagement, highlighting the lack of accountability mechanisms.
Andrew Barr, Chief Minister since 2014, has extended this legacy into 2025, becoming the longest-serving leader in ACT history. His administration has navigated crises like the COVID-19 pandemic, but at the cost of ballooning debt and service failures. Projects like the light rail expansion have overrun budgets by hundreds of millions, with little transparency or repercussions for those responsible. Barr’s government has been accused of political interference in investigations, allowing racism and misconduct to fester unchecked. In this environment, senior public servants operate as untouchables, their actions rarely audited or punished. Politicians, too, evade responsibility; Barr himself has faced criticism for opaque decision-making, yet he remains in power, unthreatened by meaningful opposition.
This 25-year monopoly has created a “one-party state” where accountability is illusory. Without robust checks, such as a strong federal anti-corruption body, the ACT’s integrity frameworks are toothless. Senior officials exploit this vacuum, engaging in dishonesty and racism without fear of demotion, prosecution or even public censure. Politicians perpetuate the system by burying complaints and stalling inquiries, ensuring their allies remain protected. The result is a governance model where the powerful treat laws as optional, while ordinary citizens, especially Indigenous ones, bear the brunt. This lack of accountability isn’t accidental; it’s the inevitable outcome of prolonged rule without alternation, breeding arrogance and corruption at every level.
The Whistleblower’s Discoveries and My Advocacy: A Tale of Retaliation
The story at the heart of this erosion: the Aboriginal whistleblower, an Indigenous Treasury employee who exposed entrenched racism and corruption, and the fight for accountability that faced the full force of institutional backlash. The whistleblower’s journey began in 2000 when they uncovered disturbing allegations of financial misconduct by senior Labor Party figures, this initial discovery was compounded by misconduct from Angel Marina, a mid-level public servant and former minor Canberra Raiders player. Marina, leveraging his faded Raiders fame from scoring a try some 40 years ago, authored letters filled with racist vitriol. He vilified Aboriginal colleagues, demanded the dismissal of his Indigenous line manager on racial grounds, and falsely accused them of fraud. These actions, documented in official correspondence, painted a picture of overt discrimination that should have ended his career.
Instead, the system closed ranks. The whistleblower reported these issues to superiors, including Meredith Whitten and Tu Pham, only to face dismissal and gaslighting. Their complaints escalated to suicidal ideation, yet no support materialised. Senior officials, including acting CEOs and government solicitors, conspired to bury the evidence, preventing human rights claims and ensuring Marina’s protection. This cover-up exemplifies the lack of accountability: despite clear evidence of racism, no investigations were launched, no disciplines imposed, and Marina continued in his role, unscathed.
My advocacy involved lodging formal complaints, publicising the documents, and challenging the inaction of senior figures. This advocacy threatened the status quo, prompting retaliation. In 2017, the AFP charged me with 16 fabricated offences, claiming they stemmed from my handling of documents related to an application to the ACT Civil and Administrative Tribunal (ACAT). The charges were a transparent attempt to silence me, orchestrated with input from the ACT Solicitor General Peter Garrisson, and other officials who viewed my persistence as a threat.
The Role of the ACT Solicitor-General Peter Garrisson in my Prosecution
To the best of my knowledge Peter Garrisson was the one created the fake narrative under which I was prosecuted. He also provided to the AFP the forged document I was prosecuted on. That doesn’t mean that Garrisson created the forged document, but it certainly passed through his hands on the way to the AFP.
Garrisson’s actions were not victimless. My defence to the fraudulent charges and fake narrative cost me over $500,000. I had no choice but to incur those costs, because, as my barrister advised, if I lost, I would be looking at a minimum of 8 years in prison. Obviously looking at a sentence of that magnitude, for something you didn’t do, carries significant mental health issues.
Garrisson knows that if these matters were ever dealt with properly, he would potentially be looking at serious charges and potentially serious prison time. Same with all the others involved.
If there was no racism, as Garrison maintains, why has he gone to extraordinary lengths to derail the two applications to a human rights commission that were commenced in relation to these matters, the first in 2003 and the second in 2017? Coincidence? Unlikely!
On the day my trial commenced in March 2017, Mr Garrisson came into the court room to welcome Justice Mossop to the ACT Supreme Court. Garrisson presented in place of the Attorney-General Mr Corbell, who was allegedly otherwise indisposed. Garrisson mouthed to me, “Enjoy prison!” Clearly to Garrisson these issues were extremely personal.
The ensuing trial was a stark illustration of institutional bias and the absence of accountability. Against me stood an array of senior public servants and politicians: the former head of the Chief Minister’s department and ACT Public Service, former and current Attorneys-General like Simon Corbell and Gordon Ramsay, a former and current Auditor-General, two former Under-Treasurers, an Executive Director from Disability Services, a Director from the Chief Minister’s Directorate, the ACT Director of Public Prosecutions, and Marina himself. The prosecution relied on their lofty titles to imply inherent credibility, portraying them as infallible guardians of truth.
Most testified falsely. Marina’s statements directly contradicted documented evidence of his racist letters, yet he faced no perjury charges. Other officials lied outrageously, misrepresenting facts to discredit me. The judge displayed subtle bias, often favouring the officials’ narratives. In my camp, I had only one witness: Mr. Howard Ronaldson, the former Chief Executive of ACT Treasury. His testimony was pivotal, providing verifiable insights into the Treasury’s internal dynamics and corroborating the whistleblower’s initial claims of misconduct. Ronaldson’s honesty stood in sharp contrast to the parade of deceivers, highlighting how rare integrity and accountability is in this system.
Despite the odds and a personal cost of $500,000 in legal fees, the jury unanimously acquitted me on all 16 counts. They preferred my consistent, evidence-based account over the officials’ contradictions. This verdict was a damning indictment: when a jury sides with a lone advocate supported by just one witness against such powerful figures, it exposes the rot. Yet, the aftermath revealed the true depth of unaccountability. No senior public servant has been investigated for lying under oath. Politicians like Barr have ignored calls for inquiries, allowing the perpetrators to retain their positions and pensions. Marina, the racist instigator, faces no consequences, his faux fame and connections serving as an unbreakable shield.
This lack of accountability is unforgivable. In any functional democracy, perjury by high-ranking officials would trigger immediate probes, suspensions and prosecutions. In the ACT, it merits pay rise, promotion or public service medal. Senior public servants know they can fabricate testimonies without risk, emboldened by a government that prioritises protection over justice. Politicians, complicit in this system, evade scrutiny themselves, burying reports and deflecting criticism. The whistleblower’s family has paid dearly, careers destroyed, mental health in tatters, financial ruin and legal torment, all while the guilty walk free. This disparity underscores how 25 years of Labor rule has normalised corruption, turning public service into a haven for corruption.
Systemic Racism in the ACT Public Service: Unchecked and Unpunished
My experience is not isolated; it reflects pervasive racism in the ACT Public Service, exacerbated by the absence of accountability. Indigenous employees face daily micro-aggressions, stereotypical assumptions and barriers to advancement, with complaints routinely dismissed. Studies reveal that Aboriginal public servants endure exclusion from promotions and harassment, leading to high attrition rates and mental health crises. In the Treasury, the whistleblower’s case highlighted how racism manifests in false accusations and demands for dismissals based on ethnicity, yet no senior leader intervened.
This racism thrives because accountability is non-existent. Public servants like Marina commit overt acts without repercussions, their actions covered up by superiors who fear exposing systemic flaws. Politicians under Labor have failed to implement meaningful reforms, despite promises of reconciliation. Reports detail how Indigenous voices are silenced, with whistleblowers labelled troublemakers rather than protected. The lack of independent audits allows this to persist, with no demotions or firings for racist conduct.
Critically, this unaccountability harms not just individuals but the entire service. When senior officials model racism without consequence, it permeates the culture, deterring Indigenous recruitment and eroding trust. Politicians, aware of these issues through Assembly briefings, choose inaction, prioritising political stability over equity. After 25 years, Labor’s legacy is one of tolerated discrimination, where the powerful evade justice while vulnerable groups suffer.
Flaws in the ACT Justice System: Impunity for the Powerful
The justice system, intertwined with the public service, mirrors this erosion, particularly in its treatment of Indigenous issues. Deaths in custody at the Alexander Maconochie Centre (AMC) exemplify the crisis: multiple Indigenous fatalities in recent years, including two in February 2025, have prompted outrage but no accountability. Investigations stall, with officials citing procedural hurdles while families demand answers. A young detainee’s death in isolation highlighted inadequate care, yet no senior corrections staff faced discipline.
This pattern stems from political interference and a lack of oversight. Under Labor, probes into misconduct are delayed or diluted, allowing impunity to reign. Whistleblowers, like the original Aboriginal employee and advocates like myself, are targeted with charges, while true offenders, racist officials and negligent politicians, escape unscathed. The trial against me demonstrated this: despite proven lies, no perjury prosecutions followed; the system protects its own.
Critics argue this unaccountability undermines justice. Senior public servants misuse their roles to fabricate evidence, knowing politicians will shield them. Until quite recently, Barr’s government has resisted calls for a Board of Inquiry into AMC deaths, exemplifying how leaders prioritise image over reform. After 25 years, the justice system serves the elite, treating laws as suggestions for the powerful while enforcing them harshly on dissenters.
Broader Implications: The Cost to Citizens
The erosion’s toll falls heaviest on ordinary Canberrans, especially Indigenous ones. Racism and corruption lead to poorer services, health disparities, and eroded trust. Citizens facing the system, whether in Treasury disputes or custody, encounter bias without recourse. The lack of accountability for seniors and politicians means reforms stall, perpetuating inequality.
In a corrupted jurisdiction, incentives for honesty vanish. Public servants and police view laws as optional, harming “normal citizens” who challenge the status quo. My case, with its lone witness against a Goliath, illustrates this: victory came despite the system, not because of it.
Calls for Reform: Ending the Cycle of Impunity
To restore integrity, the ACT needs independent audits of public service conduct, prosecuting perjury and racism. Stronger whistleblower protections, free from retaliation, are essential. Ending cronyism requires transparent appointments and a federal anti-corruption body to oversee politicians. For justice, implement long-overdue recommendations on deaths in custody and hold seniors accountable.
Canberrans, media and opposition must demand these changes. My trial’s verdict shows that those with the courage and stamina can win against the odds. But without action, the corruption will continue to deepen.
Conclusion
Twenty-five years of ACT Labor rule has fostered a system where senior public servants and politicians lie, discriminate, and cover up without fear. The original public interest disclosure and my advocacy-led trial expose this rot, yet accountability remains absent. It’s time to dismantle this impunity, restoring justice before it’s irretrievably lost. The stakes are the soul of Canberra’s institutions, let’s reclaim them.
