Leaked messages detail Exclusive Brethren election influence tactics

The leaked chats show McIntyre, who goes by WhatsNews?! online, was brought in for the March 29 stunt by another far-right influencer, Chris de Bruyne or “Chriscoveries”, who was helping the church coordinate the operation.

De Bruyne was also involved in the Brethren’s unofficial ad campaign. His wife and their lobbying firm Australian Firebrand endorsed multiple Brethren posters, including the mysterious “Make Australia happy again” signs that popped up during the campaign, reflecting a line coined in a church meeting by Brethren leader Bruce Hales.

The night before Albanese’s press conference, De Bruyne told a go-between for the Brethren and the Coalition campaign that he had arranged for McIntyre, “WhatsNews”, to rock up to “tail… video, heckle” Albanese the next day.

His contact, who was working with church elders, confirmed that “they [the Brethren] want hecklers primarily” but “they have drivers” to do the tailing.

After the stunt, footage was quickly passed to De Bruyne, who circulated it online. Soon the story of the PM and Chalmers facing down “the mystery local” concerned about immigration had hit the headlines.

Only the most fleeting glimpse of the Brethren staffer by McIntyre’s side made the TV news bulletins that night.

Not all Brethren disruptions went so smoothly.

Less than two weeks earlier, a stunt planned for another Albanese stopover in Brisbane had to be abandoned because the PM’s protective police detail had noticed a Brethren car, with far-right agitators inside, following Albanese’s entourage from the airport.

Sources say Sharples was in that car. They’d planned to ambush Albanese at the Stamford hotel. Sharples told this masthead, “We wanted to ask him some questions that were genuine and we wanted answers on … I wanted a good government”.

“I think at one stage I was in a car that was headed in the same direction as a politician (we were going to the same event),” he added, but denied being stopped.

The Brethren businessman admitted he poured many hours of his own time into “volunteering” for the clandestine operation, often after hours.

Later on, serious questions about security on the campaign trail were raised when Albanese was twice ambushed in his Melbourne hotel lobby by two far-right agitators. The men had also been sent by the covert Brethren operation, and both were former associates of neo-Nazis.

One was Harrison McLean, an ex-member of the extremist group The Proud Boys, who, as this masthead revealed at the time, had boasted in a livestream of being given “private intel” on Albanese’s location as part of a close-knit “team” running an influence campaign.

McLean was also involved in another Brethren-organised stunt targeting Monique Ryan.

Home Affairs minister Tony Burke later described the ambushes as “physical intimidation”, saying, “Australia hasn’t had that before, and we shouldn’t.”

The going rate for each stunt was between a few hundred dollars and $1000 per person, according to sources and financial records. The money came from the Brethren, five sources say – at first handed over in cash from duffel bags or in clandestine meets in car parks, and later through a web of middlemen, pay points and shell companies.

When one heckler involved in the early stunt with McIntyre was recruited by elders to perform another in April – this time targeting Greens MP Elizabeth Watson-Brown at a community picnic – he asked: “Do you guys need bank details for payment transfer after or do you guys work on a cash system as well?”

After this job was done, he sent a picture of McIntyre at the event as proof – it matched footage of the stunt that De Bruyne circulated the same day.

But this time there was a hitch with the new “method of disbursement”. Sharples asked another far-right figure to chase it up, and payment went through the same month.

“I did not ever pay anyone, and don’t know anyone who did, nor any sum or money involved,” Sharples told this masthead.

Last month, church spokesman Lloyd Grimshaw told the parliamentary inquiry examining the 2025 election that “the … Plymouth Brethren Christian Church never funded one cent to any political cause or party”. It had no involvement in the election at all, he said.

Grimshaw told this masthead he wasn’t involved himself in the stunts or coordinating chats, which he claimed to have no knowledge of as a Brethren operation. “I made the decision not to be involved in the election campaign,” he said.

McLean refused to answer questions but did not deny being paid for the stunts.

McIntyre also didn’t deny being paid but denied knowing the Brethren, even though he was in chats with multiple elders. “You’re told a lot of shit it seems mate. Good luck with it all,” he said in response to questions.

At the heart of the operation was a small, trusted group of far-right middlemen. These men had deep connections to the radical edge of politics, including to neo-Nazis, and they were paid considerably higher “fees” than the guns-for-hire hecklers they helped recruit for the Brethren. They were also helping organise the church’s secret ad spends on posters and billboard trucks then being rolled out across the country. “And of course,” says one source. “Part of their job was to keep the whole thing under wraps.”

Word of this lucrative opportunity had trickled down to the far-right from connections who had worked security for the Brethren, two sources said.

On April 1, just days after Albanese was heckled by McIntyre in Brisbane, Brethren elders gathered with them at the Ryde-Parramatta golf club in Sydney to discuss the ongoing campaign.

De Bruyne was among those invited. He did not answer questions from this masthead but has since boasted online of being given a budget of around $15,000 for distributing footage of the stunts in “the operation with links to … the Exclusive Brethren”. His company still showcases clips of the stunts on its website among the campaigns it has been hired for.

Two other middlemen were paid tens of thousands of dollars each, three sources with knowledge of the payments say. One was given a 2 per cent cut of all advertisements booked by the Brethren, but the arrangement was later reversed because of concerns about the optics of money from the sect going offshore through an overseas business account.

Any spending over $250,000 would require the church to declare itself a “significant third party” in the election, which would threaten its lucrative tax-free charitable status. The sect, backed by the Coalition, is fighting any finding of this nature by the parliamentary inquiry.

They say the effort was entirely voluntary and not backed by the church – despite evidence, obtained from within the sect, that its meetings were shifted for election activity, and hundreds of young Brethren were put up in hotels.

During the stunt operation, the church was often referred to as “the client” and frequently acted through a company, Sante Global, owned by Gareth Hales. Sante was also the name on some payments, and this masthead has confirmed it booked the room for the April meeting at the golf club.

Brethren elder Arne Proctor was another senior Sante executive identified in the trove of leaked communications. He declined to answer questions on the record but has denied any knowing involvement with far-right figures.

In early March, messages show Proctor told a go-between connected to the Coalition campaign that those involved in the stunts were simply “concerned businessmen that can see the country going the wrong way if the wrong people make it in”. It was the Brethren cover-story for the whole campaign.

One of the Brethren’s earliest recruits for the stunts was an ex-Liberal staffer Barclay McGain, who gatecrashed forums in March to heckle Greens MP Watson-Brown as well as teal donor Simon Holmes à Court. McGain, who now heads CPAC Australia, was previously involved in gatecrashing drag storytime events.

Communications obtained by this masthead reveal Brethren elders, including Sharples, held meetings with McGain about the stunts in March. Messages between middlemen discuss McGain happy to accept payments of about $400 at a time, and show McGain approaching those in the operation about events they were looking to crash from his personal phone number.

McGain has repeatedly denied being paid or knowing that the stunts were part of a co-ordinated Brethren operation, though he confirmed he handed his footage over to De Bruyne to distribute.

In Melbourne, fringe anti-lockdown politician Morgan C Jonas was a key figure behind the scenes, helping distribute content and performing a stunt himself, this time targeting Foreign Minister Penny Wong. He endorsed unofficial campaign posters that Brethren members in Liberal t-shirts were seen putting up.

Jonas denied being paid for the stunts and endorsements on the posters, which drew the scrutiny of the Australian Electoral Commission. He told this masthead “they were my messages that I wrote, signed and authorised, and fully stand by”.

Though the secret operation was run by church elders, most Brethren members – including the many thousands who turned out to campaign in Liberal party t-shirts that April – had no idea.

It is also unclear how much the Coalition knew about the full story behind the stunts, though some people connected to the campaign were aware of them at different times, and senior party sources confirm rumours of the dirty tricks campaign were circulating.

Ordinary members of the church have since told this masthead they are horrified at the revelations. In his evidence to the parliamentary committee, Grimshaw denied any church involvement with far-right figures, insisting, “the church completely rejects anti-Semitism, which is completely antithetical to our views”.

Grimshaw also told the committee that everyone who participated was a volunteer, and that he did not know about the message from world leader Bruce Hales, that the Brethren needed to “make Australia smile again,” that kicked off the church members’ activism.

The committee is scrutinising Grimshaw’s testimony, and is now considering calling Bruce Hales to give evidence.

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