Rupert Murdoch -Telstra Scandal - Helen Handbury
Unscrupulous, vile, and corrupt actions within the government have undermined the arbitration system in Australia, which the government had endorsed.
Delve into the sinister underbelly of Australia's legal system, where egregious crimes thrive, unscrupulous criminals operate in the shadows, and corrupt politicians and lawyers conspire to manipulate justice for their own gain. This bleak reality resonates with words like shameful, hideous, and treacherous, perfectly capturing the malevolence that permeates the corridors of power.:
Read about the crooked deals by the Australian government, which included cronyism, graft, quid pro quo, sweetheart deals, backroom deals, and corruption, so that the faulty Telstra network sold to shareholders is not revealed as infrastructure not fitfor purpose (refer to Chapter 6 - US Securities Exchange - pink herring).
During her first visit to my holiday camp, Helen Handbury, sister of the powerful media mogul Rupert Murdoch, approached me with what she claimed was sincere support after reading my manuscript, *Ring for Justice*. While her charming demeanour suggested genuine interest, lurking beneath the surface was a disquieting memory of Senator Kim Carr’s unsettling remarks about the same manuscript. This backdrop of unease serves as fertile ground for the controversial website, absentjustice.com.
Helen fervently wished for her influential brother—an unyielding titan in the media landscape, known for wielding his immense power to shape narratives—to read my work. This encounter left me with a haunting question: Did she truly understand the insidious implications surrounding Rupert's connections with the notorious Telstra Corporation? This corporation has become synonymous with corruption, siphoning millions from the pockets of everyday Australians. At that time, Telstra was not just a distant entity; it was a malevolent force actively misleading consumers and government regulators, such as AUSTEL (now known as ACMA). They orchestrated a campaign of deception regarding my ongoing billing disputes, which dragged on for over a decade—pitting ordinary citizens against a corrupt system that thrived on exploitation from 1988 to 1999. Frank Blount, who presided as CEO of Telstra, shockingly admitted in his 2000 book, *Managing in Australia*, that he was acutely aware of systemic billing flaws within Telstra. Yet, he and the board chose to conceal this damaging information during the government-endorsed COT arbitrations, showcasing the depth of their unethical practices. (Refer to pages 132 and 133 → (scroll through to File 122-i -AS-CAV Exhibit 92 to 127)
The injustices outlined in my manuscript weave a damning narrative that exposes the sinister layers of Telstra's operations and reveals how it preyed upon trusting consumers. It was unsettling to witness Helen, with unabashed eagerness, encouraging her brother to publish a work that could potentially unveil the duplicitous treacheries committed by Telstra—a corporation that exploited everyday Australians while enriching its executives without remorse.
Every Australian citizen must confront a grotesque reality: if Telstra indeed paid a staggering $400 million to Rupert Murdoch and Fox, as Senate Hansard suggests, then we are not merely talking about a transactional agreement—it is a flagrant cover-up of their failure to deliver on the promised National Broadband Network (NBN) cable fibre rollout. This shady arrangement raises grave questions about whose interests were truly protected in this corrupt alliance. Who among Telstra’s leadership condoned such duplicitous agreements, fully aware of the profound harm being inflicted upon the citizens they were meant to serve?
I emphasise that if we accept the premise outlined in points 10 and 11 on page 5164 of the official Hansard records of the SENATE official Hansard – Parliament of Australia, as published by the Parliament of Australia, (see also https://shorturl.at/URa5h which indicates that Telstra and its board were aware that the company would not meet the mandated rollout deadline, serious concerns arise. Why were the COT Cases—business owners who have struggled for years due to widespread and systemic telecommunications problems caused by Telstra—forced to bear the burden of hundreds of thousands of dollars in professional arbitration fees? These business owners sought the help of an arbitrator to ensure that Telstra would finally address the ongoing phone problems that were damaging their businesses. If this situation does not qualify as a form of severe discrimination, then what does?
10. Telstra's CEO and Board have known about this scam since 1992. They have had the time and the opportunity to change the policy and reduce the cost of labour so that cable roll-out commitments could be met and Telstra would be in good shape for the imminent share issue. Instead, they have done nothing but deceive their Minister, their appointed auditors and the owners of their stockÐ the Australian taxpayers. The result of their refusal to address the TA issue is that high labour costs were maintained and Telstra failed to meet its cable roll-out commitment to Foxtel. This will cost Telstra directly at least $400 million in compensation to News Corp and/or Foxtel and further major losses will be incurred when Telstra's stock is issued at a significantly lower price than would have been the case if Telstra had acted responsibly.
11. Telstra not only failed to act responsibly, it failed in its duty of care to its shareholders. So the real losers are the taxpayers and to an extent, the thousands of employees who will be sacked when Telstra reaches its roll-out targetÐcable past 4 million households, or 2.5 million households if it is assumed that Telstra's CEO accepts directives from the Minster.
Equally alarming are the COT Cases, involving twelve brave Australians ensnared in a rigged arbitration process with Telstra. These individuals were coerced into paying thousands in professional arbitration fees, as they desperately tried to prove that Telstra was incapable of honouring its contractual obligations to customers. Meanwhile, Telstra’s systemic failures to uphold its commitments fostered a perverse situation in which Fox was being rewarded—a clear indication of the discrimination and injustice at play.
If this was not discrimination of the worst order, then what can be deemed as such?
A pivotal moment unfolded during my conversation with Helen Handbury after her second visit to my cosy holiday camp, following her thoughtful and insightful reading of my manuscript. As we sat across from each other, enveloped in a warmth and familiarity, I felt compelled to express my deep concern about her brother, Rupert Murdoch—a figure whose considerable influence casts a long shadow over Telstra. This telecommunications giant plays a significant role in the lives of countless Australians. I articulated my doubts about whether he had even laid eyes on my manuscript and whether acknowledging my claims of discrimination would be too much to expect under such circumstances.
In response, Helen reassured me, her tone calm and soothing. She revealed that she had not yet forwarded my manuscript to him, which alleviated some of the anxiety I had been carrying. She explained that her return to the holiday camp was solely to retrieve an item of clothing she had inadvertently left behind during her first visit. This minor yet personal detail added a genuine touch to our encounter, highlighting the connection we had developed over our conversations.
For years, I have harboured the belief that if Rupert Murdoch had taken even a moment to read my manuscript, I would likely have received a formal notice from his company—an official communication indicating they did not wish to pursue any further correspondence. This lingering thought occupies a significant space in my mind, shaping my understanding of the intricate dynamics at play in this complex and often disheartening situation.
Helen's response resonated deeply within me; she thoughtfully questioned whether Rupert could truly remain indifferent to the plight of the COT Cases, especially if he fully comprehended the immense struggles, frustrations, and emotional toll we had endured. We fought valiantly against an obstructive system, paying hundreds of thousands of dollars in arbitration fees in a desperate attempt to compel an arbitrator to act on our unresolved phone issues. Yet, our passionate and unwavering efforts were callously dismissed as “fixed,” when in reality, they were anything but. This frustrating saga dragged on for a staggering eleven years, as thoroughly detailed in → Chapter 4 The New Owners Tell Their Story, Chapter 5 Immoral - Hypocritical Conduct.
Following Helen Handbury's passing, I was deeply touched to receive a handwritten letter from her husband, Geoffrey Handbury. In his heartfelt note, he expressed genuine regret for his inability to engage with the complex issues we discussed, attributing it to his advancing age. I accepted Mr Handbury's sentiments with grace, recognising the sincerity behind his words and appreciating the connection we had formed. The Handbury family is well-respected in South West Victoria, not only for their generous philanthropy in supporting various worthy causes but also for the authentic warmth and kindness they extend to everyone they meet. Tragically, Geof has since passed away as well, leaving behind a legacy of compassion.
As I approach my 82nd year, I am inspired to document my experiences with the convoluted Telstra arbitration issues and the various unscrupulous lawyers and forensic accountants who exploited the plight of the COT arbitrations for their own gain. This entire experience serves as a poignant reminder of the inner strength required to confront daunting obstacles and the relentless resilience needed to pursue justice, even in the face of overwhelming uncertainty and adversity. Through my writing, I hope to illuminate the complexities of our struggle and inspire others to stand firm against injustice.
In essence, a troubling disparity has long existed in how legal standards are applied across the Australian business landscape. Those with deep government connections — people like Rupert Murdoch — seem to move through a different system entirely, one where influence opens doors and failures are swiftly compensated. Meanwhile, those of us without such privileges are left to navigate a maze of bureaucracy, indifference, and neglect. It is a divide that becomes painfully clear when you compare how the government responded to Telstra’s failures when they affected Murdoch’s interests, and how it responded when those same failures destroyed the livelihoods of small business operators like me.
I have never denied the importance of protecting Foxtel’s enormous investment in cable infrastructure, nor the hidden costs of running a media empire of that scale. But I also know what it means to build something from the ground up — to pour your time, your savings, and your heart into a business that serves real people. Over the years, I invested heavily in creating a vibrant agency that operated across Melbourne, Ballarat, and Mount Gambier. It was the engine room for my Over Forties Single Club, a lively and much‑needed social hub where people over 40 could meet, connect, and rediscover companionship. Every weekend, the club generated between $6,000 and $7,000 in bookings. It wasn’t just a business; it was a community, a place where people found friendship and belonging.
Everything depended on one thing: a reliable telephone service.
When the 008/1800 free‑call system — the backbone of our operations — began to fail due to systemic software faults, everything collapsed. Calls dropped. Lines went dead. Customers couldn’t reach us. The revenue that sustained the business evaporated almost overnight. And unlike Murdoch, I received no compensation. No government intervention. No acknowledgement of the damage done. I was left to absorb the losses alone.
My story is far from unique. Across Australia, countless small businesses — possibly thousands — were suffering the same fate. Tourism operators, accommodation providers, tradespeople, community organisations: all of them depended on the telephone system to survive. When it failed, they failed. And yet the government, which moved mountains to protect Murdoch’s interests, seemed blind to the struggles of the very people who kept local economies alive.
This raises a question that has haunted me for decades: why does the government allocate vast resources to support the Murdoch empire while overlooking the legitimate struggles of grassroots operators who work tirelessly to contribute to their communities?
For many small business owners, the only path to justice was arbitration — a complex, costly, and often punishing process. They entered arbitration not because they wanted to, but because it was the only way to force Telstra to acknowledge the faults that were crippling their operations. Yet even after arbitration concluded, the problems that triggered it often continued. The faults persisted. The losses mounted. Businesses stagnated or collapsed. The system that was supposed to protect us instead became a mechanism for burying our claims.
For me, the consequences were long‑lasting and deeply personal. On 11 May 1995 — the very day I received my arbitration award — the telecommunications faults were still unresolved. They remained unresolved when the new owners purchased my beloved school holiday camp in December 2001. They bought it for its land value, not its business potential, because the phone faults had already rendered it unviable. Eight years later, in 2009, they went bankrupt. The same faults that crippled my business crippled theirs. The same silence that met my pleas met theirs. The same system that protected the powerful abandoned us both.
What makes this even more galling is that the government communications authority had already acknowledged the scale of my losses. In March 1994, they documented — in detail — that the revenue lost due to Telstra’s failures was substantial. Their own internal notes, spanning points 2 to 212 and referenced on page 33, point 85 of document 1659, confirmed what I had been saying all along. Yet when it came time to calculate my losses, the figures were slashed to a fraction of their true value.
There is an enormous difference between $30.82 for a two‑night stay for school groups and $120 to $165 for a two‑night stay for social club patrons. Downgrading my losses by such a margin was not an accounting error. It was not a misunderstanding. It was a deliberate act that stripped away the truth of what I had lost. And when a government‑owned corporation knowingly reduces a claimant’s losses by such a percentage, it raises profound questions about fairness, integrity, and accountability.
This situation paints a vivid picture of the enduring struggles faced by small businesses caught in a web of inefficiency, neglect, and systemic imbalance. It is not about whether Foxtel deserved its compensation. It is about the profound inequity in how the government responded to Telstra’s failures. One group received protection. The other received punishment. One group was compensated. The other was left to drown. One group had influence. The other had none.
And that is the heart of the injustice.
The potential Over Forties Single Club patrons’ testimonials are also referred to in the AUSTEL report of 3 March 1994:
“As Mr Smith points out, the RVA message had the potential to severely damage his business. An important point in relation to the possible financial impact of the RVA message on the Cape Bridgewater Holiday Camp service is the camp’s dependence on group bookings. In June 1992 the camp tariffs ranged from $1500 to $6000 per week, so the loss of even one booking because of the RVA problem could mean a substantial financial loss.” (Refer p33, point 85 AUSTEL’s Adverse Findings).
When AUSTEL representatives visited my venue, I also demonstrated that singles club customers regularly bought souvenirs before they left: printed Cape Bridgewater t-shirts, sweatshirts, postcards, headscarves, and crafted driftwood plant arrangements. Schoolchildren didn’t have that sort of money and typically only bought postcards. FHCA (the arbitration financial resource unit working for the arbitrator and Telstra) ignored all the income I lost from single-club bookings, i.e., the profit I made on souvenirs and the $120 to $165 tariff per person for these customers.
TWO SYSTEMS OF JUSTICE
How Australia Protected Power While Sacrificing Its Own Citizens
There are moments in a nation’s history when the truth reveals itself not through grand speeches or official inquiries, but through the quiet, devastating contrast between how the powerful are treated and how ordinary citizens are discarded. For me, that contrast became impossible to ignore in the early 1990s, when Telstra — still a government‑owned corporation — failed to meet its contractual obligations to Rupert Murdoch’s Fox operations.
The failure was significant. Telstra had promised a level of service capacity essential for Fox’s broadcasting and commercial expansion. When it couldn’t deliver, the consequences were immediate and costly. The government moved swiftly, decisively, and with a clarity of purpose I would never see applied to ordinary Australians. Murdoch’s companies received a compensation package reportedly in the hundreds of millions of dollars — a settlement negotiated behind closed doors, executed with precision, and justified as necessary to protect commercial confidence.
It was a masterclass in how the system responds when the aggrieved party is powerful, wealthy, and globally influential.
But while the government was quietly writing cheques to protect a multinational corporation, a very different story was unfolding for the rest of us.
Around the same time, a group of small business owners — the people who would later become known as the COT Cases — were fighting for something far more basic: the right to have a working telephone service. We weren’t asking for special treatment. We weren’t demanding millions. We simply wanted the service we had been promised, the service we were paying for, the service our livelihoods depended on.
When Telstra failed us, the consequences were catastrophic. Lost calls meant lost customers. Faulty lines meant lost bookings. Static, dropouts, and dead lines meant reputations destroyed. For some, it meant bankruptcy. For others, the collapse of marriages, health, and hope.
The government’s response?
Not swift. Not decisive. Not protective. Instead, we were herded into a government‑endorsed arbitration process — a process that, we were assured, would be fair, transparent, and independent. A process that would hold Telstra accountable. A process that would restore what we had lost.
But from the moment the ink dried on those agreements, it became clear that the arbitration system was designed not to deliver justice, but to contain us. To manage us. To neutralise us.
Where Murdoch received compensation for Telstra’s failure, we received legal bills.Where Fox was treated as a partner, we were treated as a problem.Where the government protected a corporation’s commercial interests, it protected Telstra from its own citizens.
The contrast was not just stark — it was damning.
To understand how such a double standard could exist, you have to look at the ecosystem of influence that surrounded Telstra at the time. The telecommunications landscape was shifting. The government was preparing Telstra for privatisation. Its value — and the political careers tied to that value — depended on maintaining the illusion of a reliable, modern, world‑class network.
Admitting systemic faults would have been commercially disastrous. Compensating ordinary citizens would have been politically inconvenient. But compensating a global media empire? That was necessary. And so the system bent. It bent for Murdoch. It bent for Fox. It bent for the government’s own commercial ambitions.
But it did not bend for us.
The deeper I went into arbitration, the more I realised that the system wasn’t broken — it was functioning exactly as designed. The rules were written by Telstra. The arbitrator was appointed under conditions that would later be revealed as deeply conflicted. Evidence was withheld, delayed, or altered. Technical reports were sanitised. And the government, which had promised oversight, quietly stepped back into the shadows.
Meanwhile, the same legal and corporate figures who shaped the regulatory environment were moving into senior roles within major media organisations, including Fox‑related entities. It wasn’t illegal. It wasn’t even unusual. But it revealed something essential about how power circulates in Australia: within tight circles, behind closed doors, and far from the reach of ordinary citizens.
When powerful institutions operate within overlapping networks, accountability becomes optional. Transparency becomes negotiable. And justice becomes a privilege, not a right.
For us — the small business owners, the farmers, the tourism operators, the shopkeepers — justice was never on the table. We were told to trust the process. We were told the arbitrator was independent. We were told the government was watching.
But the truth was simpler and far more brutal. We were expendable. Our losses didn’t threaten the national interest. Our businesses didn’t influence global markets. Our voices didn’t carry into boardrooms or cabinet meetings. And so, when Telstra failed to meet its obligations to us, we weren’t compensated. We were punished. Some of us were forced to pay Telstra’s legal costs. Some were left with debts that would follow them for decades. Some lost everything.
The same government that protected a billionaire’s commercial interests refused to protect its own citizens from the consequences of Telstra’s failures. That is the heart of the injustice.
That is the rot at the centre of the system. That is the story Australia still hasn’t been told.
Looking back now, with the benefit of years and the clarity that comes from surviving the worst of it, I can see that our fight was never just about faulty phone lines. It was about something far larger: the right of ordinary Australians to be treated with the same dignity, fairness, and respect afforded to corporations and political allies.
We weren’t asking for special treatment. We were asking for equal treatment. And the system couldn’t — or wouldn’t — provide it.
This chapter marks the turning point in my memoir because it marks the turning point in my understanding. It was the moment I realised that our battle was not just against Telstra, but against the machinery that protected it. A machinery that could compensate for a global media empire while abandoning the citizens it was meant to serve.
It was the moment I understood that justice in Australia is not distributed evenly. It is allocated. It is prioritised. It is negotiated. And for people like us, it was denied.
Major Fraud Group Victoria Police
The issues raised on absentjustice.com have been characterized by terms such as counterfeit and bogus.
Chapter 1
Learn about government corruption and the dirty deeds used by the government to cover up these horrendous injustices committed against 16 Australian citizens
Chapter 2
Betrayal deceit disinformation duplicity falsehood fraud hypocrisy lying mendacity treachery and trickery. This sums up the COT government endorsed arbitrations.
Chapter 3
Ending bribery corruption means holding the powerful to account and closing down the systems that allows bribery, illicit financial flows, money laundering, and the enablers of corruption to thrive.
Chapter 4
Learn about government corruption and the dirty deeds used by the government to cover up these horrendous injustices committed against 16 Australian citizens. Government corruption within the public service affected most if not all of the COT arbitrations.
Chapter 5
Corruption is contagious and does not respect sectoral boundaries. Corruption involves duplicity and reduces levels of morality and trust.
Chapter 6
Anti-corruption policies need to be used in anti-corruption reforms and strategy. Corruption metrics and corruption risk assessment is good governance
Chapter 7
Bribery and Corruption happens in the shadows, often with the help of professional enablers such as bankers, lawyers, accountants and real estate agents, opaque financial systems and anonymous shell companies that allow corruption schemes to flourish and the corrupt to launder their wealth.
Chapter 8
Corrupt practices in government and the results of those corrupt practices become problematic enough – but when that corruption becomes systemic in more than one operation, it becomes cancer that endangers the welfare of the world's democracy.
Chapter 9
Corruption in government, including non-government self-regulators, undermines the credibility of that government. It erodes the trust of its citizens who are left without guidance are the feel of purpose. Bribery and Corruption is cancer that destroys economic growth and prosperity.
Chapter 10
The horrendous, unaddressed crimes perpetrated against the COT Cases during government-endorsed arbitrations administered by the Telecommunication Industry Ombudsman have never been investigated.
Chapter 11
This type of skulduggery is treachery, a Judas kiss with dirty dealing and betrayal. This is dirty pool and crookedness and dishonest. This conduct fester’s corruption. It is as bad, if not worse than double-dealing and cheating those who trust you.&a
Chapter 12
Absentjustice.com - the website that triggered the deeper exploration into the world of political corruption, it stands shoulder to shoulder with any true crime story.
Summary of Events
Read about the corruption within the government bureaucracy that plagued the COT arbitrations. Learn who committed these horrendous crimes and where they sit in Australia’s Establishment and the legal system that allowed these injustices to occur.
Sub Story Warts and All
The relentless and aggressive behavior directed to the COT Cases by Telstra.
