Political parties project well-deserved stereotypes of themselves — earned through years of either governing the country or kvetching in opposition.

The Conservatives — bless their tar paper souls — are petty, secretive, bullying and utterly doctrinaire in spirit if not always in practice. The NDP, having never tasted real power in its nearly 60 years of existence, is a band of righteous losers — the conscience you appreciate but often ignore.

Then there’s the Liberal party. Oh God, the Liberals are my favourite, if only because they are so quick to revert to type. In opposition, they (like everyone else) are as pure as Prairie grain, quick to be offended at any spending cut, partisan extravagance or ethical lapse, real or perceived. We’ll be better, they say. Real Change. Hope And Hard Work. Sunny Ways.

Once in power, everything changes — as the Liberals turn around to embrace the smarmy sense of entitlement befitting Canada’s Natural Ruling Party™. How quickly this happens depends on circumstances.

In Jean Chrétien’s era, it took roughly two years and one extremely close Quebec referendum result. When the separatists nearly won that particular tussle, the Liberals devised a scheme to sell the Canadian flag to reticent Quebecers, by way of Liberal party organizers and connected advertising firms. The ensuing slush fund was deep and the Liberals helped themselves, as Liberals do.

In the case of Justin Trudeau’s Liberals, it took exactly 589 days for the party to revert to type. I’m not talking about electoral reform, parliamentary reform or Indigenous affairs, three files that the Liberals have either punted entirely or (in the case of Indigenous affairs) have pasted over with so much well-meaning sentiment that it’s difficult to see how little substance there is behind it.

I’m not even talking about freedom-of-information reform, which Trudeau himself said was crucial until his party found itself in power — and on the business end of journalist’s questions. Broken promises are standard fare for all parties; they litter the gap between opposition and government.

Using a corporation to avoid said taxes is entirely legal — much like the loopholes Morneau wishes to close for a certain class of Canadian tax-avoiders. Using a corporation to avoid said taxes is entirely legal — much like the loopholes Morneau wishes to close for a certain class of Canadian tax-avoiders.

No, the Liberals truly returned to form on July 18, 2017, when Finance Minister Bill Morneau introduced the Liberal government’s ‘tax fairness’ measures. Closing certain loopholes in the tax code would “address tax planning strategies that give unfair tax advantages,” Morneau said. “Many of the richest Canadians are unfairly exploiting the tax rules designed to help businesses thrive.”

It has all the hallmarks of a proper Liberal promise: fairness, integrity and a sense of noblesse oblige toward the middle class, so put-upon by the plutocrat one per cent. It is all the more Liberal in that Morneau apparently engaged in the very kind of tax planning he decried so many months ago.

Morneau, a multimillionaire banker married to a multimillionaire heiress, owns a villa in southern France. He also owns millions of shares in Morneau Shepell, the pension services behemoth founded by his father. Let us peruse how our finance minister has handled these particular assets.

Morneau’s French villa is owned by a holding company in which Morneau and his wife Nancy McCain are partners. Morneau neglected to mention the existence of this corporation to Conflict of Interest and Ethics Commissioner Mary Dawson until after the CBC’s Elizabeth Thompson started asking questions about it. Such corporations are particularly useful in France, where the inheritance tax is an expensive burden for the country’s wealthy landowners. Using a corporation to avoid said taxes is entirely legal — much like the loopholes Morneau wishes to close for a certain class of Canadian tax-avoiders.

Next, there is the matter of those shares. Morneau’s shares, which earn upwards of $2 million in yearly dividends, are owned by a corporation controlled by Morneau and his family. This set of circumstances, unearthed by CTV News, allows Morneau to deke the federal conflict-of-interest ethics laws. Because they are owned by a corporation, not a human being named Bill Morneau, the finance minister didn’t have to get rid of them when he took office. Again, it’s perfectly legal. It’s also a loophole to hold onto extremely valuable assets he otherwise would need to sell.

A couple of months ago, a conspiracy theory sprouted up about Morneau in Conservative circles. Morneau (so the theory went) specifically designed the new ‘tax fairness’ rules to benefit Morneau Shepell, which provides the very pension and tax services that will be needed once the rules are changed. It was a spurious claim; there are dozens of these companies in the country. Yet Morneau’s continued ownership of these shares give such claims a whiff of legitimacy, so much so that it has become an NDP talking point.

Now, a caveat: Morneau’s apparent misdeeds aren’t on a sponsorship-scandal scale. The latter was institutional, infecting much of the party hierarchy and practically all of its Quebec wing. The former benefits exactly one well-placed banker-turned-finance-minister.

Yet the sense of entitlement — the practical myopia in the face of the obvious optics of the thing, the “do as I say, not as I do” mentality — this is the stuff of Liberal stereotype. How nice to see them behaving as they always have.

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