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Pretend, for a moment, that you are a big wheel in the federal government. Prime Minister, even. Leader of the Liberal Party of Canada, too.

Pretend you are running a government that styles itself as feminist.

Would you then permit someone to run for you, as a candidate, who said he was looking for a girlfriend to do his “cleaning, folding, cooking?”

Your government proclaims it is anti-racist, too. Would you take that same candidate after he’d mocked the way Chinese-Canadians speak?

Your federal political party says it’s against homophobia and sexual assault, too. Would you accept that guy into your caucus, after he joked that men’s tennis “sounds exactly like gay porn?”

How about after learning that he would like to “accidentally sexually assault” someone? How about then?

You’d still take him? Okay, let’s say you are considering which MP to give a big raise and make the Parliamentary Secretary for Crown-Indigenous Relations. Would you hire that same guy, after he wrote that “every skinny aboriginal girl is on crystal meth?”

You wouldn’t, would you? No. No decent, sane person would. When a man makes that many racist, homophobic, misogynistic, anti-Indigenous remarks, you wouldn’t hire him for any task, would you?

But you’re not Justin Trudeau. And Justin Trudeau did indeed promote Jaime Battiste — the Liberal MP for Sydney-Victoria, N.S. — to what is a junior cabinet minister post. Gave him a big raise, too.

And made him one of the most powerful elected people in Ottawa — on the Indigenous file.

Now, governments don’t usually reveal themselves in grand, sweeping gestures. Sometimes they reveal themselves — their absence of a soul, say — in the little things. Like promoting someone like Jaime Battiste to help oversee Indigenous issues.

In a way, it isn’t really surprising.

I mean, this is the prime minister who solemnly promised to bring clean water to Indigenous reserves — and then just didn’t.

This is the prime minister who said he’d clean up the poison in the ground at places like Grassy Narrows — and then mocked a young woman who came to an exclusive Liberal event to talk to him about Grassy Narrows, telling her “thanks for your donation” as security men threw her out onto the sidewalk.

This is the prime minister who said he wanted a day for Truth and Reconciliation with Indigenous people — and then lied about where he was on that very day, and jetted out to B.C. to hang out in a millionaire’s mansion. On a beach where he likes to surf.

This is the prime minister who pushed his minister of justice and attorney general to stop the prosecution of one of his party donors — a donor who was facing corruption charges on a massive scale.

And then, when that minister — a proud and respected Indigenous leader named Jody Wilson-Raybould — refused to obstruct justice, he kicked her out of the Liberal Party. And when another respected female cabinet minister named Jane Philpott spoke up to defend Wilson-Raybould, he kicked her out, too.

That’s who this prime minister is. That’s who he is, in his soul. In his essence.

A man who claims to be a feminist, but isn’t. A man who professes to oppose all racism and homophobia, but doesn’t. A man who says he wants reconciliation with Indigenous people — but will never attain it.

In his words and his deeds, we all know who Justin Trudeau is.

He’s the prime minister who recruited, and promoted, Jaime Battiste — a jerk, a creep, who says that “every skinny aboriginal girl is on crystal meth.”

That’s who Justin Trudeau really is.

No pretending.

— Warren Kinsella was a Ministerial Representative on Indigenous files across Canada under Jean Chretien, Paul Martin and Stephen Harper

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The CBC has gone insane. Truly.

Check this out.

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Remember March 11, 2020?

Of course you do. It was the day the world changed.

It started, as world-endings perhaps do, in unexpected ways. Everyone has their own “where were you” story, like when famous people die suddenly.

This writer was on his couch in Toronto, watching something forgettable on TV, when the unforgettable news blinked onto an iPhone. Tom Hanks and his wife, filming in Australia, announced they had COVID-19, the disease caused by the novel coronavirus.

Minutes later, a statement from the National Basketball Association appeared. The basketball season was being suspended “until further notice.” A player with the Utah Jazz had it, too.

Truth be told, I wasn’t totally shocked. In my communications class at the University of Calgary’s Faculty of Law, we had been tracking the coronavirus for weeks, because we were convinced it was going to get worse.

And now it was, dramatically so. I didn’t ever expect the Heralds of Doom would be a Hollywood actor and some basketball players, but perhaps that was needed to communicate that it was real. It was really, really happening.

Observers of the government of Justin Trudeau could be forgiven for thinking it wasn’t, however. In the terrifying days that followed, Trudeau’s witless minister of health told Canadians not to wear masks. She said the risk of getting sick was “low.”

And anyone who politely suggested that we should consider closing borders was called a racist by the Trudeau cabal. Subsequently, their acquisition of vaccines became a fiasco, and Canada would lag far behind the Americans and Europeans.

Well, that was March 11, 2020 and the days thereafter. That was the start of this, the COVID Plague. More than five million people have been killed by it; many millions more made seriously ill, some permanently. Economies crushed, businesses decimated, lives upended.

And now — perhaps, maybe — it is starting to feel a bit like March 11, 2020 all over again.

The Heralds of Doom, this time, weren’t actors and basketball players. It was, properly, governments. Within hours early on Friday, they started closing their borders to travellers from African countries. Markets fell, prices rose.

And we all started watching our phones more closely, asking ourselves: is it here already? Federal health officials don’t know.

The new variant initially bore the bland, antiseptic name B.1.1.529 — but was dubbed Omicron by the World Health Organization on Friday.

All of the previous coronavirus mutations were diabolical — slithering, like snakes, around public health measures and personal immunities.

Omicron, first detected in densely-populated South Africa, is incalculably worse, in two critical ways.

Firstly, it is five times more effective at infecting humans than the very worst of the variants.

Secondly — and this the menacing March 11, 2020 fact — it may be powerful enough to defeat the vaccines most of us have in our bodies. As in, we may be just as vulnerable to sickness and death as we were on March 11, 2020.

The good news, of course, is that we know that masks generally work as well as vaccines. Social distancing and regular handwashing help a great deal, as well. So does closing borders to countries with outbreaks — something now happening within hours, not weeks and months.

Also good news: the new federal Minister of Health, Jean Yves Duclos, has already revealed himself to be far more coherent and capable than his bumbling predecessor.

On Friday afternoon, after Ontario Premier Doug Ford and Conservative Leader Erin O’Toole demanded immediate action.

Duclos announced multiple restrictions on travel to or from seven different African nations. Anyone who has recently been in one of those countries must immediately enter quarantine and get tested, Duclos declared.

So far, so good. Much is at stake: lives, economies, futures. Will Trudeau and his regime do better, this time?

Because, this time may be March 11, 2020 all over again.

— Warren Kinsella was Chief of Staff to a federal Liberal Minister of Health

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