In the months following a February protest at Sydney's town hall — where footage of police striking demonstrators and seizing Muslim worshippers at prayer spread widely — New South Wales's police watchdog prepared to open public hearings into what happened and why. Less than two weeks before those hearings were to begin, Police Commissioner Mal Lanyon's legal team sought to move the entire inquiry behind closed doors, a last-minute intervention the watchdog's chief commissioner called 'more than regrettable' and ultimately rejected. The episode raises an enduring question that accountability i
Police chief's last-minute bid to close Herzog protest inquiry delayed watchdog investigation
Public comments made by senior police increase the need for independent scrutiny
Why does it matter whether these hearings happen in public or private? Isn't the investigation happening either way?
The difference is accountability. If senior officers testify behind closed doors, the public never sees how they explain the viral footage, the injuries, the decisions that led to the protest response. Public hearings mean scrutiny.
But we should be precise about what's actually being decided here. The watchdog is holding private hearings on factual matters first, then public hearings on systemic issues. That's a compromise, not full transparency.
So the police commissioner was trying to keep everything private?
Yes. His legal team argued the whole thing should be closed-door. The watchdog rejected that, but the delay itself—pushing back the start date—that's a cost. Resources, time, momentum.
And we should note: the watchdog said police had become "overly defensive" in other contexts. This bid to close the hearings fits a pattern, but we don't know Lanyon's actual reasoning. We know what his lawyers argued, not necessarily what he was thinking.
What happens to the thirty people who were charged?
Four have had charges dropped already. More than twenty are facing a joint hearing in July. The inquiry's findings could affect how those cases are viewed, or even how they proceed.
Though we don't know yet whether the inquiry's findings will be binding on prosecutors or just advisory. That's still open.
And the people injured—the protesters in their seventies and eighties—are they part of the inquiry?
The inquiry is examining police use of force, the deployment of OC spray, arrest procedures. Those injuries are central to why the watchdog exists and why this matters.
One more thing: we have eight hundred complaints tied to this event. That's the scale we're talking about. Not a handful of disputed moments. Eight hundred people came forward.
O Pulso
- Viral footage of officers punching protesters and grabbing Muslim worshippers mid-prayer ignited over eight hundred formal complaints and a full watchdog investigation into systemic police conduct.
- With public hearings days away, the police commissioner's legal team moved to seal the entire inquiry from public view — a manoeuvre critics called an attempt to shield command decisions from independent scrutiny.
- The last-minute bid forced delays, wasted public resources, and required a private hearing simply to argue about whether hearings should be private — pushing the start date from September 21 to an unspecified future date.
- The watchdog's chief commissioner ruled the intervention unjustified, noting that senior police had already shaped the public narrative and that the Islamic community in Western Sydney had raised serious concerns demanding open examination.
- The inquiry will now proceed in hybrid form — a public address on October 19, five weeks of private factual hearings, then public examinations of senior officers on use of force, OC spray deployment, arrest procedures, and protest planning.
- A parallel civil lawsuit by Palestinian Australian Eyad Shadid, alleging assault, false imprisonment, and malicious prosecution, ensures the accountability reckoning will extend well beyond the watchdog's findings.
In the months following a February protest at Sydney's town hall — where footage of police striking demonstrators and seizing Muslim worshippers at prayer spread widely — New South Wales's police watchdog prepared to open public hearings into what happened and why. Less than two weeks before those hearings were to begin, Police Commissioner Mal Lanyon's legal team sought to move the entire inquiry behind closed doors, a last-minute intervention the watchdog's chief commissioner called 'more than regrettable' and ultimately rejected. The episode raises an enduring question that accountability institutions exist to answer: when those entrusted with force resist scrutiny, what does transparency owe the public?
On a February afternoon outside Sydney's town hall, a protest against Herzog ended in scenes that would haunt the city's institutions for months. Officers punched demonstrators and grabbed Muslim worshippers mid-prayer at sunset. Ten police were injured; so were numerous protesters, some in their seventies and eighties. Thirty people were charged. The footage went viral before the dust had settled.
The Law Enforcement Conduct Commission launched its investigation almost immediately, receiving more than eight hundred complaints. By September, public hearings were scheduled to begin — designed to examine not just individual incidents but the command structures and systemic decisions behind them. Then, less than two weeks before the September 21 start date, Police Commissioner Mal Lanyon's legal team intervened, arguing the entire inquiry should be held in private. The opening address, witness examinations — all of it, they said, should happen behind closed doors.
The watchdog's chief commissioner, Peter Johnson SC, rejected the bid and made his response public. The timing, he wrote, was 'more than regrettable.' The intervention had forced delays, disrupted preparation, and wasted public resources — requiring a private hearing simply to argue about whether hearings should be private. Johnson ruled that the watchdog held clear authority to conduct public examinations, and that public examination was necessary: senior police had already advanced their own account of events, and the Islamic community in Western Sydney had raised significant concerns. 'Public comments made by senior police increase the need for independent scrutiny,' he wrote.
The inquiry, known as Operation Makalu, will now proceed in stages. A public address is set for October 19, followed by five weeks of private hearings on factual matters, then public examinations of senior officers on use of force, OC spray deployment, arrest procedures, and protest planning. A separate civil case brought by Palestinian Australian Eyad Shadid — alleging assault, false imprisonment, and malicious prosecution — is moving through the courts in parallel.
NSW Greens justice spokesperson Sue Higginson called the commissioner's bid an extraordinary attempt to suppress scrutiny of serious misconduct and shield the political decisions that led to police violence. The commissioner's office said it acknowledged the ruling and awaited findings. Johnson had previously described the relationship between the two agencies as 'difficult,' noting police had grown 'overly defensive' in response to information requests. The record complaint numbers, he suggested, told their own story.
On a February afternoon at Sydney's town hall, police and protesters collided in ways that would ripple through the city's accountability machinery for months. The protest against Herzog drew crowds, and the response drew blood—viral videos captured officers punching demonstrators, grabbing Muslim worshippers mid-prayer at sunset. Ten police officers were injured. So were numerous protesters, some of them in their seventies and eighties. Thirty people were charged in the aftermath. Four of those charges have since been dropped. More than twenty others are scheduled to face a joint hearing next July.
The Law Enforcement Conduct Commission, New South Wales's police watchdog, launched an investigation almost immediately. By September, the inquiry was set to begin public hearings—a deliberate choice to examine not just individual facts but the systemic decisions and command structures that shaped how police approached the protest. The watchdog had received over eight hundred complaints tied to the event. The public deserved to see how those complaints would be tested.
Then, less than two weeks before the hearings were scheduled to start on September 21, police commissioner Mal Lanyon's legal team made a move. They submitted arguments that the inquiry should be held behind closed doors. The opening address, the examination of witnesses—all of it should happen in private, they argued. They said the watchdog lacked the power to hear broad submissions in public and that holding open hearings partway through an investigation was unconventional and inappropriate.
The watchdog's chief commissioner, Peter Johnson SC, made his response public on Thursday. The timing, he wrote, was "more than regrettable." The last-minute intervention had forced delays, disrupted preparation, wasted public resources, and cost money. The investigation's start date shifted from September 21 to "a date to be fixed." A private hearing had to be scheduled just to argue about whether the hearings should be private.
Johnson rejected the police commissioner's position. The watchdog did have the power to decide when public examinations were appropriate, he ruled. And public examinations were necessary. Significant information about February 9 was already in the public domain—the viral footage, the images of police using force. Senior police officers had already advanced their own account of what happened. "Public comments made by senior police increase the need for independent scrutiny," Johnson wrote. The Islamic community in Western Sydney had raised significant concerns. Transparency was not optional.
The inquiry will now proceed with a hybrid approach. On October 19, counsel assisting the watchdog will deliver a public address. Five weeks of private hearings will follow, focused on factual matters. After that, senior officers will appear at public examinations to address systemic issues—the use of OC spray, the improper use of arrest powers, the deployment of force itself, the planning that preceded the protest, and what might be learned for future policing of demonstrations.
The operation, called Makalu, will examine the full architecture of what happened. Meanwhile, a separate civil case is moving through the courts. Palestinian Australian Eyad Shadid has sued, alleging he was assaulted, battered, and falsely imprisoned by police near the town hall. His claim includes allegations of misfeasance in public office and malicious prosecution.
Sue Higginson, the NSW Greens justice spokesperson, called the police commissioner's bid "an extraordinary attempt" to suppress public examination of serious misconduct allegations and to shield the political decisions and command structures that led to police violence. The police commissioner's office said it acknowledged the decision and awaited the findings. At a parliamentary inquiry in May, Johnson had described the relationship between the agencies as "difficult," noting that police had become "overly defensive" in response to information requests. The record complaint numbers told their own story. What the public hearings will reveal remains to be seen.
Citações Notáveis
The timing of these issues being raised by the Commissioner of Police is more than regrettable given its impact on the orderly progress of the investigation— Peter Johnson SC, Law Enforcement Conduct Commission chief commissioner
Public comments made by senior police increase the need for independent scrutiny— Peter Johnson SC, in his decision on the inquiry structure