The Cow Paddock Purchase

This article forms part of the serialised republication of Panthers, Passion & Politics – The Roger Cowan Years.

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There was one more monumental event for the Penrith Leagues Club in the seventies.

In 1971, the club became aware of a property on Mulgoa Road that was for sale for around $2 million.  It was nearly 100 hectares, with large sections of swampy dairy farmland. Parts of it extended all the way to the Nepean River.

In Cowan’s eyes, Mulgoa Road was destined to be a major link in the future. The part of the property fronting Mulgoa Road, about 10 hectares, had already been zoned for residential development. Because of the residential zoning, he saw the purchase as a low-risk strategy, although it would be a massive investment for such a small club. The land would provide enormous development options for both the registered club and the football club. He became a passionate advocate of acquiring the property.

When he first floated the idea of buying the Mulgoa Road property, most people thought he was crazy. The price on the property was $2.25 million, not an amount that could be shrugged off easily. It had to be financed and the Club’s bankers refused. Undaunted, Cowan negotiated to transfer financial dealings to another bank where the management could see that the Club was going places and was worthy of support.

The criticism came from many quarters. One local newspaper ran the headline, “Roger’s Pipe Dream”.

‘People called it Frog Hollow’, says Don Ellks, one of the senior managers at the time. He says people were either laughing or sceptical. ‘It was very difficult to convince the Board, but Roger persisted and eventually won out. It showed enormous vision when he was being ridiculed from every quarter.’

Don Feltis, later a director at Panthers, was at the time a member of the police force in Penrith. He remembers a police inspector friend telling him the purchase was the worst decision the Club ever made. ‘It’s too far out of town. No-one is going to go that far to go to a club.

Anyone who has ever visited Panthers’ Penrith club, exiting the M4 and travelling along Mulgoa Road, will know that the club is the focal point of a thriving commercial centre outside the city’s CBD.

But in 1971, once it left Penrith’s main street, Mulgoa Road was little more than a country road. It paralleled the Nepean River, heading out in the direction of Warragamba Dam. Along the way it passed through Wallacia, with its impressive Tudor-style hotel, seen by some at the time as an alternative to Medlow Bath’s Hydro Majestic for honeymoons and romantic trysts.

Former director Tom Wilson agreed that many people thought Roger was mad when he proposed the purchase.

But they thought he was mad about a lot of things. At one time we went and had a look at Australiana Village, out along the Hawkesbury near Windsor, when it came up for sale. We looked at buying other land in Penrith too, but at the time we thought it might be overextending. But Roger could see how that whole area was going to go ahead.

Phyllis Cowan remembers that Jamison Park — now one of Penrith’s major parklands with playing fields and recreational areas — was also considered by Cowan as a possibility to expand the club. It was covered in thick scrub and even further out of town.1

There was a lot of discussion about the land purchase, Max Connors recalls.

Many people in town were against it and some on the Board were not sure. But Roger was very persuasive, he saw it as a great opportunity.

Barry Hubbard said the criticism came from locals, club members and from Council. People were saying,

Why on Earth would they want to buy that swamp? You’ll never be able to build anything on it.

The view from corner of Mulgoa & Jamison Rds looking west. (Unknown source.)

After about four months of deliberations, the Board finally agreed to the purchase.

Hubbard’s first visit to the property did not go well. He had seen the property from the road, but once the decision was made, he and another director, Murray Clarke, decided they wanted a closer look.

We were in Murray’s four-wheel drive. We drove in about 100 metres, and the car was up to its axles in mud. “You’d better get out and have a look”, Murray said. I stepped down, and I was up to my knees. We eventually got the car out, and I went back to the club to clean myself up before I went home.

The boardroom had its own bathroom, so Hubbard decided to wash his trousers in the basin. It was the classic scenario of ‘one of these days, you’re going to get caught …’ . When sprung by the chairman, in his boxers, doing his laundry in the washbasin, he explained that he had just inspected the club’s new site.

Phyllis Cowan says she could never have imagined in 1971 what the Club would become. She could see the drive her husband had, though.

I think that Roger knew, right from the start. And I think if he was still there, he’d still have the same dreams and visions. He was always very conscious of what it was doing for Penrith, that it was putting the area on the map. His sense of community was very strong. Even in the early days he often talked about Penrith becoming a major centre in the state, and how the Club could help.

Pat Sheehy has been on Penrith Council since 19872, he says:

Panthers has been an asset to the city of Penrith for the very simple reason that people found out where we were. So, we benefited as a community by that exposure – and that advertising didn’t cost us anything.

The relationship between Panthers and Council has at times been symbiotic, and at others almost parasitic, says Sheehy.

What stage it was at depended on where you were standing. Often Panthers thought that we were the greatest mongrels on Earth, and just as often council thought the same about Panthers.

But the two have worked together on many community projects and are always ready to forget their differences in times of local crisis, such as bushfires and floods.

Council was particularly opposed to the development of a club on Mulgoa Road. One of the reasons given was the land’s proximity to the Jamison Hospital and the noise that a new club might generate. But the current club was quite close to the town, in what was essentially a residential area. Ellks says the neighbours were already starting to complain about the noise, and there were some problems with young people hanging around in the street. The Club was growing, so the complaints could only increase.

Although he wasn’t on council at the time of the purchase, Sheehy was living and working in Penrith, and has heard much of the history from council colleagues.

Roger had the vision for that land long before anyone else ever saw it. All the pundits around town were saying, “What do they want to move there for? It’s on the edge of bloody town, no-one’s going to go there”.

He was able to cut through a lot of the wowserism that was current in council in those days. I would think that most councillors were middle-aged men in grey suits, who were not really into the whole club scene.

 And he had no background in clubs – it was quite brave. What he was seeing was enormous potential, where most of us were still seeing the country town where we’d grown up. He had this whole concept of what Panthers could become, which I don’t believe was shared by many people. He certainly had to convince the board – and he didn’t get a lot of support from the people on council at the time.

Yes, he was definitely seen as an upstart. Especially wanting to set up this huge expanse of club-land. They thought he was biting off more than he can chew, driving too far, too quickly. To some extent, I think the belief – and hope – in council was that this bloke will end up being put in his place.

That thinking was to continue, at least in some quarters, over the entire Cowan years at Panthers. One particular aspect irked Cowan for the rest of his life — how Council managed the disposal of two roads on the Station Street property. For further background see Beyond the Book — Negotiating with Council: The Station Street Road Closures.

With the purchase of the Mulgoa Road property going ahead, Roger Cowan faced the prospect of raising the money to develop the site. Cowan came up with some unusual ideas about how to do it, says Tom Wilson.

Anyone who knows Penrith knows that there’s vast deposits of sand and gravel under the land all along the river, right through to Castlereagh. The quarries on the northern side of the city have been operating for many years. One of Roger’s early concepts to finance the development was to mine some of the blue metal under the new site. The idea was to sub-contract the work out to BMG, who would take it over the river to Emu Plains and process it.

The concept did not get very far. There was no way it would ever be approved, given the position and the need for thousands of noisy trucks plying back and forth on the edge of town, holding up traffic on the narrow bridge across the river. But he said it was typical of Cowan’s style, to look beyond what’s in front of your face and see what could be.


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  1. Jamison Park already included playing fields, the scrub referred to here was at the southern end of the Park.
    ↩︎
  2. Pat Sheehy retired from Penrith City Council in 2008. He passed away in 2025. ↩︎

Part 11 · All Parts · Part 13

Commentary and Contributions

Removing the Football Club Secretary and Treasurer

The removal of Merv Cartwright (Secretary) and Ron Partridge (Treasurer) from their respective roles with the Penrith District Rugby League Football Club occurred against the backdrop of a broader and more complex set of issues than is immediately apparent in the main narrative.

While Cartwright became the central public focus of the dispute, the Board’s concerns also extended to the financial administration of the football club more broadly, including the role of Treasurer Ron Partridge.

Contemporaneous Board papers and meeting records from the period indicate a growing concern among Directors regarding both the financial management of the Club’s football operations and the processes by which financial commitments were being made.

At the centre of these concerns was the relationship between the Licensed Club — which generated the revenue — and the District Rugby League Club, which was responsible for football operations. While this arrangement had supported the Club’s early growth, it also created a structural tension: financial responsibility and operational control were not always aligned.

By the late 1960s, the Board had become increasingly uneasy that commitments were being entered into without sufficient oversight, and in some cases without formal authority. This was not framed as a single incident, but as a pattern that had developed over time.

Internal analysis presented to the Board suggested that the Club’s financial position was more fragile than it appeared. Liabilities associated with player payments, bonuses and sign-on fees were, in the Board’s view, not being fully or consistently reflected in financial reporting. When assessed against normal operating income, there was concern that the Club could not meet its existing commitments without significant restraint.

These concerns were reinforced by a pattern of escalating expenditure. Board discussions from the period refer to sharp increases in allocations to football operations, alongside uncertainty as to how those figures had been determined. Directors questioned both the reliability of the budgeting process and the basis upon which commitments had been made.

In response, the Board moved to assert clearer control over financial decision-making. Proposals and subsequent resolutions emphasised that:

  • no contracts or financial commitments were to be entered into without explicit Board approval;
  • committees operating within the football structure were to act within clearly defined limits;
  • and all funds were to be subject to centralised oversight and reporting.

These measures were not presented as routine administrative adjustments, but as necessary steps to address what was seen as a deteriorating financial and governance position.

At the time the NSW Rugby Football League (NSWRFL) was responsible for the debts of all District Clubs — and should Penrith Rugby League Club Ltd (Licensed Club) stop funding the Penrith District Rugby League Football Club (District Club), the Board was confident it would not prevent the District Club from operating. It could, however, trigger intervention by the NSWRFL as administrators of the Penrith District Club.

Within this context, the recommendation to cease funding unless Secretary Merv Cartwright and Treasurer Ron Partridge resigned can be understood not as an isolated or sudden decision, but as the culmination of these concerns. This was not an easy decision for the Board, a fact reflected in the final paragraph of the Board Resolution.


Resource Material*

The following documents can be seen as PDFs:


Related Material


Related Themes

Conflict · Governance · Financial Management


* Resource material courtesy of The Ausburn Collection


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The Bungool Picnic and Unpaid Players

This article forms part of the serialised republication of Panthers, Passion & Politics – The Roger Cowan Years.

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Penrith in the 60s was, in many ways, still a country town. Some of the trains were still steam hauled, and holidaymakers would pass through on their way to the Blue Mountains – or stop off and catch the Bales’ bus out to one of the many guesthouses at Wallacia, some ten miles out of town.

Through 1963-64, Roger Cowan continued teaching while acting as honorary treasurer of the football committee. What started out as an amicable relationship with Merv Cartwright gradually deteriorated into frequent clashes.

The registered club’s main function in those days was to finance rugby league.

In 1964, the registered club committee had agreed to a football budget of £10,000 and player contracts were agreed within that budget. Payday for the players was planned for the traditional end of season picnic on the banks of the Hawkesbury River — Bungool1.

When Cowan went to the club administration to organise the cheques for the players, he was informed that they didn’t have the money. He had no warning of the problem. Merv Cartwright who sat on the registered club committee and was also secretary of the football club, would known much earlier that the Club was in financial trouble — yet the football club had been allowed to proceed on its merry way without any warning.2

Before this Cowan had never thought about getting into club politics. It was this failure — the inability to meet its obligations to the players — that first motivated him to stand for election onto the committee of the licensed club – ‘to understand how £10,000 could be promised and not paid’.

He was elected, and soon after asked to take on the role of treasurer. It quickly became apparent that the club had virtually no systems of control. Dishonesty was widespread, enabled by the absence of basic procedures.

I started to look into why the club wasn’t making any money. We were losing money hand over fist. The bank was threatening to take action. One of the first things I did was to install control systems for poker machines.  This included a monthly analysis of each of the 26 machines to ensure they were operating within carded percentages.

I also put as much time as I could into getting some systems operating. There was no system for stock control, no cash systems, there was nothing. I began with cash systems. We started to count the money, and balance it against the cash register tapes, and so on. Basic stuff, but it had never been done.

 Cash control was a simple system before then. When trading finished for a shift, the cash would be taken to the vault and tipped into a large container with all the cash from other cash registers. Nobody checked the cash register tapes to see if there was a balance. Each morning the money in the container would be counted and banked.

Rumour has it that one employee boasted that he never bothered taking less than a twenty pound note when he wanted some cash. He bought a new car in less than 12 months working as a bar steward.  After getting a system started, I came in one Sunday morning and discovered a £1,700 discrepancy between the cash register tapes and the money we had. That was a lot of money in those days for such a small club.’

At a special meeting, the board decided that the Secretary-Manager Rocky Davis wasn’t managing things properly, and asked for his resignation. There was no suggestion of dishonesty, only mismanagement.

The Club immediately advertised for a replacement. But the small size and low profile of the Club meant that the quality of candidates was not very high. After three months of advertising, they had still found nobody suitable. In the meantime, Cowan continued holding things together in his spare time – evenings and weekends – and continued to improve the systems.

I was doing the job anyway, as well as teaching. I was convinced in my own mind that I could put systems in place to make the place work. So I just said to the committee one night, “I’m prepared to resign from teaching. I’ll take the job for a trial period if you want to give it to me. And I’ll give you a guarantee that if I’m not making a profit within three months, I’ll resign and you can keep looking”. I agreed to commence on a very low salary.

That was October 1965. The Board agreed, and Cowan remained in the position continuously for almost 40 years.

There is a logical question here, of course. Here is a young man – 29 years old, married, four young kids. He’s a schoolteacher, which is a reasonably secure job for life. He suddenly decides to turn his whole life upside down. There is no contract, no security of tenure – just ‘give me three months to make a success of it. If not, I’ll go’.

Phyllis Cowan says it was the challenge.

He loved school teaching, he was an excellent teacher, but he didn’t like the system. I don’t think he wanted to be doing that for the rest of his life. Many people advised him against it at the time. But he always could have gone back to teaching, she said –- it was easier back then.

It was the challenge that attracted him, and kept him there, she said. He was being successful, the club was making money, it was growing, and he was introducing all these new measures. She spoke of a couple of nights in the early days when he took a blanket and pillow and sat on a roof where he could watch for the people that he knew were stealing stores from the club.

Under Cowan’s stewardship, the club began to more stable financially. The systems he implemented, some while acting as treasurer and others when he took the management role, had already begun to have an impact on the profitability of the business.

Within a year, the club had moved out of the red. For the first time, it had the financial stability needed to think beyond survival.


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  1. Bungool’s location was at Cattai on the Hawkesbury River where Riverside Oaks Golf Resort is today. ↩︎
  2. This failure became evident at the end-of-season Bungool picnic, when players could not be paid in full.
    See Beyond the Book: The Bungool Picnic. ↩︎

Part 5 · All Parts · Part 7

Commentary and Contributions

Major Player: Merv Cartwright

Merv Cartwright

Mervyn Earl Cartwright

Founding figure in Penrith rugby league; Secretary, Penrith District Rugby League Football Club (1967–1970)

Mervyn Earl Cartwright was one of the key figures in the early development of rugby league in Penrith. A local player, administrator, and advocate for the game, he played a central role in the campaign that led to the Penrith Panthers’ admission to the NSWRL competition in 1967.

He served as the club’s inaugural secretary and was widely recognised as a driving force behind rugby league’s establishment in the district.

Role in the Narrative

Merv Cartwright appears in the early phases of the Panthers, Passion and Politics narrative as a key figure in the club’s formation and early direction.

His contribution sits primarily within the “growth” stream of the story — the push to establish Penrith as a first-grade rugby league presence. At the same time, his period of influence overlaps with the emergence of tensions between football ambition and financial governance — a theme that would become increasingly significant as the club developed.

Background

Born: 1927
Died: 2011

Cartwright grew up in the Penrith district and was closely connected to local rugby league from an early age.

• Played junior and senior football in the district
• Became club secretary in the 1950s while still a player
• Continued as Secretary of the Penrith Rugby League Football Club from 1967 to 1970
• Returned to Club governance as a Board Member 1992 – 1998

He was one of the signatories to the formation of the Penrith Rugby League Club Ltd in 1967 .

Recognition by Panthers
• Life Membership, Penrith Panthers (1955)
Merv Cartwright Medal is awarded to the best player each season (named 2012)
• Named a Panthers Legend (2026)

Relevance to Events Described

Cartwright was a driving force in the campaign to bring Penrith into first-grade competition. He played a visible role in promoting the club, including maintaining a strong media presence during its early years .

During his time as secretary, the club operated in an environment where expectations between football operations and financial governance were not aligned. By the end of the 1960s, these pressures had intensified. Expenditure on football activities exceeded agreed limits, and tensions developed between football operations and the licensed club board over financial oversight and decision-making.

In 1971, Cartwright resigned from his role as Secretary of the Football Club. The circumstances surrounding his resignation were more complex than this summary suggests, particularly in relation to the Club’s financial position and governance arrangements at the time.

This conflict echoes through later sections of the Panthers, Passion and Politics narrative.

Related Material


Related Themes

Conflict · Football Club · First Division Admission


Editorial Note

This profile is presented as contextual background.
Additional material may be introduced as the narrative progresses.


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The Temby Inquiry

The Temby Inquiry was a formal investigation, commissioned by the New South Wales Department of Gaming and Racing in 2004, into the governance and operations of Penrith Rugby League Club.

Conducted by former senior prosecutor Ian Temby QC, the Inquiry examined a range of matters relating to the administration of the Club and the conduct of individuals associated with it. Its report, delivered in December 2004, marked the culmination of a period of conflict that forms a central thread of this series.

While the Inquiry sits outside the early timeline of this series, it becomes an increasingly important reference point as the narrative unfolds.


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The Footy Five

The term “Footy Five” was coined by Ron Mulock to describe a group of five directors who, during this period, generally adopted a shared position on a range of issues affecting the Panthers organisation.

Despite the name, the distinction between this group and the other directors was not based on differing levels of commitment to rugby league. Both groups were strongly invested in the future of football in Penrith.

The difference lay more in approach than in objective. One group tended toward a more fixed position on key issues, while the other favoured a more flexible approach in responding to changing circumstances.

The most significant point of divergence related not to football itself, but to broader questions of governance — particularly amalgamation and the future structure of the Panthers organisation.

As the Footy Five is referenced throughout the narrative, it is useful to identify the individuals within the group:

  • Geoff James: Private Enquiry Agent.
  • John Bateman OAM: Local solicitor. Mayor of Penrith (1998-2000)
  • Greg Evans: Owner of the Western Weekender, a local newspaper also prominent in the narrative.
  • Craig Terry: Financial controller at Liquorland.
  • Denis Coffey: Owner of successful engineering company. Ex-player.

Related Topics


Related Themes

Conflict · Governance


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Introduction — The Rise of Panthers: Success, Excitement & Conflict

This article forms part of the serialised republication of Panthers, Passion & Politics – The Roger Cowan Years.

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WHAT A STRANGE TALE this turned out to be!

The chronicle of a business — a struggling back-street club in a semi-rural town that grew to have assets worth more than half a billion dollars.

A story of well-intentioned people working together to achieve great results.

A story that adds significantly to the history of registered clubs in NSW.

And yet the story of building great success and positive culture gives way to a troubling tale of relationships falling apart.

There are elements that will trouble those who assume democratic governments are immune from overreach — that they are above persecuting its citizens. Readers who believe in free speech and the obligation of the media to report the truth may also wonder at some of the events described here.

One of the main players is Roger Cowan, who spent 40 years as CEO of Panthers and led the Club through incredible growth, and finished his career in the most difficult and disappointing circumstances.

Roger Cowan circa 1968

The Club’s journey from a tiny club first licensed in 1956 to the giant enterprise1 it is today included some great successes and excitement — and plenty of disappointment and failure. When Roger took the reins the tiny Club was close to closing. Under his stewardship it grew to include 14 clubs and their lands, various playing fields, bowling greens and other facilities, a ten-pin bowling centre and a mobile-home village near the Nepean River.

The growth and expansion of the Panthers enterprise was accompanied by the nurturing and development of an enormous wealth of talent, skills and a culture that has grown and spread throughout the entire New South Wales club industry.

Cowan recalls the years from 1997 until his retirement in 2005 as being easily the most difficult and frustrating in his 40-year tenure. The final outcome was an unnecessary and deeply damaging Government Inquiry.

During this eight-year period the principal actors included a group who became known as the Footy Five2; past and present members of the NSW Labor government; Ron Mulock, a former NSW deputy premier; and The Sydney Morning Herald. These influences would extend beyond the Club, ultimately converging in the events that led to the Temby Inquiry.

But history extends more than eight years.

To understand those years, we need to look at the entire journey of Panthers.

In 1967 it was, by far, the smallest of all the clubs supporting a first-grade rugby league team. Today, it is the largest.3 We also need insight into the demarcation between the two club entities — football club and registered club4 and the men that controlled them.

Cowan’s conviction that a single management structure was essential to the success of both clubs created great animosity and indirectly led to a police investigation and the charging of Cowan with fraud.5

The Super League disputes of the late 90s, and Penrith’s difficulty in qualifying for a place in the new NRL competition divided a city and led to a bitter conflict within the cloisters of Panthers.

The growth of Panthers, through amalgamations with struggling clubs caused even more serious relationship difficulties, despite its success in building the assets of Panthers.

Eventually open hostility broke out between Board and Management.6

In the background were other influences. The Treasurer of the NSW government and the state’s gaming minister had both condemned the growth of large clubs, singling out Panthers; the government was planning crippling taxation increases; a local council election was looming in Penrith; and the city hosted several events when the Olympic Games came to Sydney in 2000.

For Roger Cowan, things would converge in June 2004.

Strict mechanisms were already in place to regulate the club industry but faced with massive protests over new gaming taxes, the government introduced legislation that would enable it to mount Royal Commission-style inquiries into clubs and their officials, on the basis of mere allegations. The move was unprecedented. Royal Commissions are almost sacrosanct and to instigate one against an individual was previously unheard of. Cowan and Panthers endured six months of inquisition under Commissioner Ian Temby — high profile veteran of ICAC inquiries, such as the one which had ousted Premier Greiner.

No charges were laid. No action was taken.

The monetary costs — to Panthers, Cowan, and to the NSW taxpayer — were enormous.

But there were other costs.

Temby was directed to investigate six allegations about practices at Panthers. Beneath the public posturing lay what Cowan regarded as a profound misuse of power — a government prepared to violate our systems of justice for its own ends.7

Not one of the allegations was based on evidence that could possibly survive a court hearing and lead to criminal charges. Not one.

The outcome was bloody,

  • The Footy Five were removed from the positions they had fought so hard to preserve,
  • Panthers incurred huge costs,
  • Cowan’s reputation, health (physical and mental) and finances were battered.
  • The NSW Labor Government demonstrated a strange code of justice and,
  • The lack of balance in the coverage by the Herald8 will probably go unnoticed in the flood of exaggeration, beat-ups and lies that are evident in the media every day.

Roger Cowan admits that he handled several events badly. Given the time over, he says, there would be a lot of changes. It is possible that other participants would say the same, but many were unwilling to provide information.


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  1. Panthers Passion and Politics was published in 2006. Since that time, the size and structure of Panthers has changed considerably. Today Panthers includes the Penrith Panthers NRL team, the flagship registered club at Penrith, Cables Wakeboard Park (leased to an operator), and clubs at North Richmond, Port Macquarie, and Glenbrook. Several previously amalgamated clubs and properties have since been divested, and portions of the Penrith site have been sold for redevelopment. A Convention Centre has recently been completed at Penrith and leased to Pullman, and a Panthers Rugby League Academy has been established.
    ↩︎
  2. “The Footy Five” was a label applied to five Panthers directors who held a majority on the Board during the years of conflict. According to former director John Bateman, the term emerged toward the end of the dispute and may overstate the extent to which the five directors acted as a unified voting bloc throughout the period. See – Beyond the Book – The Footy Five.
    ↩︎
  3. This claim reflects the position at the of publication in 2006. While Panthers remains one of the largest clubs supporting a first-grade rugby league team, its relative size and standing within the NSW Club Industry has diminished since that time.
    ↩︎
  4. The two entities are Penrith District Rugby League Football Club (PDRLFC) and Penrith Rugby League Club Ltd (PRLC). The first is the football club; the second is the licensed club.
    ↩︎
  5. Roger’s persistence with this belief contributed to a later claim that he was anti–Rugby League. That perception was also influenced by his criticism of excessive spending by some Rugby League committees. The fraud charges referenced here were subsequently dismissed. The circumstances surrounding those charges are explained later.
    ↩︎
  6. This sentence may suggest that such conflict was inevitable. Some degree of tension exists in all organisations, and when managed constructively it can generate energy and growth — a dynamic evident throughout much of Roger’s 40 years at Panthers. The escalation in this period, however, required a particular convergence of personalities and circumstances, and proved unusually destructive.
    ↩︎
  7. This episode resembles what is now sometimes described as “lawfare” — the strategic use of legal or quasi-legal processes in political disputes. The mechanisms employed raised questions about the practical operation of the separation of powers within the Westminster system. These constitutional issues are discussed later.
    ↩︎
  8. The Sydney Morning Herald – a Sydney daily broadsheet newspaper. ↩︎

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Commentary and Contributions