In the chambers of a corruption inquiry, two former New South Wales politicians found something that politics had long denied them: a formal occasion to speak their own version of events into the public record. David Elliott and Eleni Petinos, both casualties of the Liberal Party's internal wars, testified before ICAC that their careers were not undone by their own failings but by deliberate campaigns — involving developer intimidation, manufactured scandals, and factional maneuvering — waged by people they had once trusted as colleagues. Their testimony arrives as an inquiry into illegal deve
Former NSW MPs air grievances at ICAC, alleging years of sabotage by Liberal rivals
I was so disgusted with Charles because he lied to me, I pretty much wiped him
Why does Elliott's smile matter so much here? He's just given testimony.
Because for four years he carried this alone. The smile says he's no longer the person who quietly disappeared. He's the one doing the naming now.
What's the connection between Nassif and the Perrottets? They seem like separate threads.
They're not separate. Nassif needed political cover to develop in the Hills. When Elliott blocked him, Nassif had leverage—the cocaine arrest. That arrest could be weaponized against Elliott if the right people were willing to use it. The Perrottets were willing.
Petinos seems like a different case entirely—she was sacked for bullying.
That's what the public was told. But she's suggesting the bullying allegations were a smokescreen. Chandler was about to cause real damage. She was expendable. A woman being aggressive looks different than a man being direct.
Is there actual evidence of what Elliott and Petinos are claiming, or is this just their version?
ICAC counsel read from actual dossiers of surveillance. The private investigator's observations were documented. The "shit sheet" about the affair existed. But yes—their interpretations of why these things happened, that's their version. That's what ICAC is trying to verify.
What happens to them now that they've testified?
They've put their names and their stories on the record. Whether ICAC finds the conspiracy they're describing, or whether it finds something messier and more fragmented, their testimony is now part of the official record. They're no longer invisible.
Does the fact that they're both not persons of interest change how we should read their testimony?
It means they're not accused of wrongdoing themselves. They're witnesses to what they believe was done to them. That doesn't make them right about everything—but it does mean they have less reason to lie about the broad strokes.
O Pulso
- A developer now a fugitive in Lebanon allegedly deployed private investigators, death threats, and fabricated affair rumours against a sitting MP whose wife was simultaneously fighting cancer.
- A minister claims she was sacked within hours — coldly, without warning, without even a camera — to shield the government from a building commissioner's explosive resignation letter.
- Both former MPs allege that male colleagues embroiled in comparable controversies were afforded weeks of public support while they were discarded without ceremony.
- The Liberal Party's internal factions — described by Elliott as 'the cult' — are accused of weaponising developer money, branch-stacking, and media leaks to eliminate rivals rather than govern.
- ICAC's inquiry is widening, with Charles Perrottet and Chris Spence — named directly by Petinos as those who used her — scheduled to give evidence in the coming days.
In the chambers of a corruption inquiry, two former New South Wales politicians found something that politics had long denied them: a formal occasion to speak their own version of events into the public record. David Elliott and Eleni Petinos, both casualties of the Liberal Party's internal wars, testified before ICAC that their careers were not undone by their own failings but by deliberate campaigns — involving developer intimidation, manufactured scandals, and factional maneuvering — waged by people they had once trusted as colleagues. Their testimony arrives as an inquiry into illegal developer donations and branch-stacking continues to pull at the threads of a party that, under the surface of governance, was conducting a quieter and more ruthless contest for survival.
David Elliott left the ICAC offices on Friday with a broad smile. For nearly four years he had carried the weight of his political destruction in silence, and now, at last, he had been given a platform to name the people he believed had engineered his downfall.
Elliott's career as a NSW MP ended abruptly in 2023. Despite eight years as a senior minister under three Liberal premiers, his seat was abolished and branch-stacking operations left him without a path to preselection. The ICAC inquiry into illegal developer donations gave him something unexpected: a chance to speak. Much of his testimony focused on developer Jean Nassif — now a fugitive in Lebanon facing fraud charges — whose company Toplace had sought approvals for major developments in Elliott's electorate. When Elliott opposed rapid housing growth on infrastructure grounds, he alleged Nassif responded with intimidation: unwanted confrontations, threats delivered through his chief of staff's church, and private investigators trailing him and his wife. Elliott even photographed one of them at work, later joking to the inquiry that the man was 'the Maxwell Smart of the PI world.'
As Elliott raised concerns about defective buildings, the campaign intensified. A document circulated by young Liberal operatives alleged he was having an affair — a claim later conceded under cross-examination to have no foundation. The timing was particularly cruel: his wife was undergoing cancer treatment. Elliott was equally bitter about the Liberal right faction, which he called variously 'the hard right,' 'the religious right,' or simply 'the cult,' and about Charles Perrottet, the premier's brother, whom he accused of lying to him. 'I was so disgusted with Charles because he lied to me about the council, I pretty much wiped him,' he said.
Eleni Petinos, the former fair trading minister, testified the day before with her own account of betrayal. Sacked by Premier Dominic Perrottet in mid-2022 over bullying allegations she denied, she told ICAC she now believed her dismissal had been engineered to deflect attention from an incendiary resignation letter written by Building Commissioner David Chandler, who fell under her portfolio. 'I thought there was something very strange at play for Dominic to take the action that he did so swiftly, so coldly, and without the opportunity to even put me in front of a camera,' she said. She was stung by the contrast with Stuart Ayres, a male minister given weeks of public support before being required to stand aside over a separate matter. The experience had shattered her confidence. She named Charles Perrottet and political operative Chris Spence as those she believed had used her.
As the inquiry continues — with Charles Perrottet and others due to give evidence next week — the picture emerging is of a party fractured by factional warfare, where rivals deployed developer money, private investigators, and manufactured scandals to eliminate threats. For Elliott and Petinos, the hearing offered something rare: the chance to name names and to insist that their political deaths were not the result of their own failings, but of deliberate campaigns waged by people they had once called colleagues.
David Elliott walked out of the Independent Commission Against Corruption offices on Friday with a broad smile. For nearly four years, he had carried the weight of his political destruction in silence. Now, finally, he had been given a platform to name the people he believed had orchestrated his downfall.
Elliott's career as a New South Wales MP had ended abruptly in 2023. Despite eight years as a senior minister under three successive Liberal premiers, his political future evaporated when his own seat was abolished and branch-stacking operations in his area left him with no viable path to preselection. He stepped away quietly. But the ICAC inquiry into illegal developer donations and branch-stacking gave him something he hadn't expected: a chance to speak.
Much of his testimony centered on developer Jean Nassif, now a fugitive in Lebanon with an arrest warrant hanging over him for alleged fraud. Elliott's opposition to rapid housing development in the Hills—he believed the area lacked infrastructure to support massive projects—had put him at odds with Nassif's company, Toplace, which was behind major developments at Castle Hill and seeking approval for another at Cherrybrook. Nassif, Elliott told the inquiry, had responded with a campaign of intimidation. There were unwanted meetings in public places, including one in a Parramatta bar where Nassif confronted him aggressively. Elliott's chief of staff, Tanya Raffoul, received threats through her church. Someone told her that Nassif had photographs of Elliott and suggested she "spill the beans" or face consequences. Elliott believed private investigators were following him and his wife—he even photographed one photographing him, later joking to the inquiry that the man was "the Maxwell Smart of the PI world," a bumbling television spy.
When Elliott began raising concerns about defective buildings, the campaign intensified. Negative stories leaked to the media. A document circulated by a group of young Liberal operatives called the Reformers alleged Elliott was having an affair—a claim Elliott insisted was baseless and which a former Liberal staffer later conceded under cross-examination had no foundation. The timing was particularly cruel: Elliott's wife was undergoing cancer treatment.
But Elliott's grievances extended beyond Nassif. He was scathing about the right faction of the Liberal Party, which he characterized variously as "the hard right," "the religious right," or simply "the cult." He described how Premier Dominic Perrottet had promised him he could keep the police portfolio, then moved him to transport instead. Elliott suspected this had something to do with Nassif's arrest for cocaine possession at the Star Casino—an arrest that, with Elliott as police minister, could be framed as a setup. He was equally bitter about Charles Perrottet, the premier's brother, whom he accused of lying to him about council matters. "I was so disgusted with Charles because he lied to me about the council, I pretty much wiped him," Elliott said.
Elliott was not alone in his reckonings. Eleni Petinos, the former fair trading minister, testified the day before with her own account of political betrayal. She had been sacked by Perrottet in late July 2022 on allegations of bullying staff. At the time, she denied the charges but apologized if she had unintentionally offended anyone. Now, appearing before ICAC, she suggested something darker had occurred. Building Commissioner David Chandler, who fell under her portfolio, had written an incendiary resignation letter that threatened to embarrass the government and draw ICAC's attention. Petinos believed Perrottet had sacked her swiftly and without warning to deflect attention from that letter. "I thought there was something very strange at play for Dominic to take the action that he did so swiftly, so coldly, and without the opportunity to even put me in front of a camera," she said. She was particularly stung by the contrast with Stuart Ayres, a male minister who had been given weeks of support before being required to stand down over a separate controversy. The experience had shattered her confidence. At ICAC, she named those she believed had used her: Charles Perrottet and Chris Spence, a political ally who had been chief of staff to former planning minister Anthony Roberts.
As the inquiry continues, with Charles Perrottet and others scheduled to give evidence in the coming week, the picture emerging is one of a party fractured by factional warfare, where political rivals deployed whatever tools they could find—developer money, private investigators, manufactured scandals, false allegations—to eliminate threats. For Elliott and Petinos, the ICAC hearing offered something rare: the chance to speak their version into the record, to name names, and to suggest that their political deaths were not the result of their own failings but of deliberate campaigns waged by people they had once called colleagues.
Citações Notáveis
Some call it the hard right, some call it the right, some call it the religious right, some call it the cult— David Elliott, describing the right faction of the Liberal Party
I thought there was something very strange at play for Dominic to take the action that he did so swiftly, so coldly, and without the opportunity to even put me in front of a camera— Eleni Petinos, on her sudden dismissal as fair trading minister