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As Ontario Progressive Conservative party members begin voting to choose a new leader, we will profile the four candidates over the coming days. The leader will be announced March 10.
Suggest to Caroline Mulroney that she lacks the political experience of her rivals in the Ontario Progressive Conservative leadership race — or that trying to win her first seat in any legislature, a party leadership and a premier’s office in less than five months sounds just a bit crazy — and she will tell you that she brings a “different kind of experience” to the table: “I’ve been working for 20 years in law and business, I started a charity, and I’ve been doing that while raising (four) kids,” as she told CBC the day of her campaign launch.
If experience is your ballot question, that might not be hugely convincing. Successful financiers, lawyers and philanthropists enter politics all the time. Often they are parents. The most unique experience she can claim is growing up at 24 Sussex Drive, and that might have kept some people out of the spotlight for good.
The morning after winning the leadership race in June 1983, Brian Mulroney celebrated his daughter Caroline’s ninth birthday at a party in the Chateau Laurier. Postmedia File
Prime Minister Brian Mulroney was constantly at war with the media, and when his wife and kids made public appearances they were fair game in a way that looks downright savage today. CTV morning host Ben Mulroney, Caroline’s younger brother, recalls with particular annoyance the suggestion that his mother had insincerely taken up the cause of cystic fibrosis — “an awful disease whose child victims are both blameless and photogenic,” Susan Riley wrote in a 1998 book called Political Wives: Lives of the Saints. “There is something patently insincere about Mila, something people sense even through a television screen.”
In fact, the Toronto Star’s Carol Goar reported, Mila was speaking almost daily with sufferers of the disease and with bereaved parents.
“It was a blood sport,” Ben Mulroney marvels of Ottawa in the late 1980s and early 1990s.
The Mulroney family sits down to breakfast in this March 1992 photo. Clockwise from left are Ben, 16, Caroline, 17, then-PM Brian, his wife Mila, Mark, 12, and Nicolas, 6. Postmedia File
The most infamous episode was Frank magazine’s “Deflower Caroline Mulroney contest,” which Brian Mulroney characterized as “an incitement to gang-rape my daughter.” But even ostensibly non-satirical coverage was often incredibly tone-deaf. “She must have developed a decided interest in guys by now,” Hubert Bauch mused in the Toronto Star in 1991. “And from all appearances, she’d have no problem getting noticed.” The headline was “The blooming of Caroline.” She was 17.
“I’m more reserved in general as a result of it,” says Mulroney, now 43, in an interview at her tackled-together midtown Toronto campaign office. She suggests dealing with media is the steepest learning curve she’s currently navigating.
“There was a lot about politics that seemed like fun from a young kid’s perspective,” she nevertheless recalls: “I saw my dad, my mother and all the people who were part of the party in Ottawa, and of different parties, working really hard for what they believed in.” Thirty years after the bitter “free trade election” of 1988, she notes, people from all parties are “fighting to keep NAFTA alive.”
“It shows you that you (might) be unpopular and you might be criticized in the media,” she reasons, but that history will reward you “if you do what’s right.”
Mark and Caroline Mulroney attend a ceremony where their father received the Order of Canada from Governor General Romeo Leblanc in 1998. Wayne Cuddington/Postmedia News
Brian Mulroney recalls Caroline didn’t seem much bothered by the bad press as a child, and credits her mother. “Mila’s attitude always was … ‘consider the source, and let’s move on’,” he says. “’We don’t have time to waste with these vile personal attacks by mediocrities.’”
“We have many things in common, but one thing in particular is that we never really are hurt by criticism,” says Mila Mulroney. “If it’s just rude and maligns you without any point of reference, then you just totally dismiss it. If there’s value in the criticism I’m sure she’ll take it and she’ll examine it and she’ll figure it out.”
“My mother did a tremendous job of raising four children in Ottawa under a spotlight,” says Caroline. “I wanted to hear from her whether she thought (entering politics) was even something that I should consider because of the age of my (pre-teen) children. She was very encouraging, and I raise my children a lot in the way she raised us.”
Caroline Mulroney and Andrew Lapham after their wedding ceremony on Sept. 16, 2000 in Montreal. John Mahoney/The Canadian Press
Mulroney paints herself as a classic families-first centrist compassionate conservative — someone who believes “government should be the last resort,” but nevertheless “has a role in helping our most vulnerable.” This week she proposed policies that would get unlicensed daycare operators trained and licensed, while reviewing plans for more government-provided daycare spaces for cost-effectiveness. Like all the candidates, she opposes the carbon tax that anchors the People’s Guarantee platform released in November, but she has taken a moderate line on the other major divisive issue: she says she shares parents’ concerns about a lack of consultation on sex-ed, but sees no reason to change the curriculum. “I think for three years, it’s worked,” she says.
As high-profile as much of Caroline Mulroney’s childhood was, she has since flown mostly under the radar. Even her 2000 wedding to Andrew Lapham — son of former Harper’s magazine editor Lewis Lapham, and great-great grandson of Texaco Oil co-founder Lewis H. Lapham — was lower-profile than it might have been. Guests included everyone from George and Barbara Bush to Frank and Kathie Lee Gifford, but society reporters mostly failed to squeeze intimate details out of tight-lipped organizers.
Caroline Mulroney with her husband and family. carolinemulroney.ca
After studying government at Harvard, Mulroney moved to New York in 1996 and into investment banking at Bear, Stearns. From there it was on to New York University’s law school, where she graduated in 2001 and took on a role as associate director of the university’s Pollack Center for Law & Business, organizing events and conferences. “She was a wonderful colleague, energetic, imaginative, great with people and diligent,” recalls William T. Allen, a renowned corporate law professor at NYU.
Mulroney was living the sort of life thousands of hyper-ambitious 20-somethings lead in New York, albeit in very nice West Village apartments. She was called to the bar in New York, and practiced in the employee compensation and benefits group at Shearman & Sterling. And she says she loved the work despite the “100-hour weeks” and middle-of-the-night post-Enron-collapse conference calls with Japanese clients. But ultimately, as her mind turned to family, she determined the lifestyle was unsustainable.
“I hadn’t yet figured out — and I think a lot of women may experience this — what (my) career was going to look like,” she recalls, “because I had always thought I’d be a partner by the time I was 30, and I’d also be a mother of four by the time I was 30.”
Ontario PC leadership candidate Caroline Mulroney looks on prior to addressing The Economic Club of Canada at Toronto’s Hyatt Regency Hotel, March 2, 2018. Peter J Thompson/Financial Post
Mulroney and Lapham relocated to Toronto, where Lapham is chairman of Blackstone Capital. Mulroney completed the coursework to be called to the bar in Ontario, she says, but “then we found out we were expecting our fourth child.” At 33, she decided the business world was better suited to her talents than trying to dive back into a law firm. She’s currently on leave from investment advisers BloombergSen.
With her sisters-in-law, she also co-founded the Shoebox Project, a charity that provides what she calls “little luxuries” to homeless women around the holidays. What began as a family-and-friends project quickly grew to include chapters in many cities across North America.
The Mulroney-Laphams have a very fine home in Forest Hill and another very fine home on Lake Simcoe, in the York-Simcoe riding she hopes to win on June 10. Her two daughters attend school in Toronto in French, continuing the family tradition of bilingualism. Indeed, Mulroney’s good reviews go all the way back to Lycée Claudel in Ottawa: “She was a great student (I was not),” recalls Eric Vani, a classmate who is now an Ottawa realtor. “She was empathic and sharp and a whole lot more mature than I was.”
“Empathetic” is a term that many who know Caroline Mulroney use to describe her. “Quick study” is another. One recent colleague and friend, who asked not to have her named used for professional reasons, recalls watching Mulroney, not long into the job, handling a very difficult client conversation with remarkable aplomb and diplomacy, where both sides hung up satisfied.
“(She approaches) those conversations not saying ‘I need to convince you that our position is right and yours is wrong’; instead (she’s) able to have both parties hang up and go ‘OK, we’re all satisfied, we’re going to remain partners.’”
Former Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, left, his wife Mila, centre, and their daughter Caroline Mulroney during the announcement of the $60 million Brian Mulroney Institute of Government and Mulroney Hall at St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, N.S., on Oct. 26, 2016. Darren Calabrese/The Canadian Press
That’s certainly a transferrable skill in politics (not least Ontario Tory politics). And Mulroney credibly says she loves the door-knocking part of the job. If she is “reticent” (her word) with media, in a one-on-one conversation she seems entirely at ease, self-assured and unaffected — former Conservative cabinet minister Lisa Raitt, a friend and supporter, calls her “un-flashy.” “Completely unpretentious and grounded,” says longtime friend Sarah Miller. “She kind of has these nerd-like qualities,” says Kim Bozak, another friend. “She’s not a grandstander by any means.”
How that’s playing out in the leadership campaign, and how it would play out against very talented campaigners like Kathleen Wynne and Andrea Horwath, remains to be seen. Mulroney seems increasingly comfortable speaking her mind publicly, but still looks half-embarrassed when delivering talking points, such as the idea that fellow candidate Christine Elliott was until recently “working for Kathleen Wynne” as the province’s patient ombudsman.
Clockwise from left: Ontario PC leadership candidates Caroline Mulroney, Doug Ford, Tanya Granic Allen and Christine Elliott. Chris Young/The Canadian Press
Pressed as to whether she has some beef with the office itself, Mulroney could only retreat to the talking point: “The issue with Christine is simply that she was working for Kathleen Wynne a month ago, and we need somebody who’s going to fight Kathleen Wynne, and not somebody who’s been working for her.”
She hasn’t much time to hone those skills, and while Elliott’s decade of experience at Queen’s Park was far from triumphant, it might prove more compelling to members desperate for a win than Mulroney’s “different kind.” Mulroney is attempting a rapid ascendency the likes of which Canadian politics has rarely if ever seen. Still, assuming she manages to hold York-Simcoe for the Tories, the worst she can do is lose the leadership — something many very famous Canadian politicians have done before, including her father.
“I always give the same advice: politics is about timing,” says Raitt, who consulted with Mulroney as she considered whether to bite off a far bigger chunk of politics than she had planned. “Sometimes the timing of the right time to run is very different from what you think is the right time in your life, and you have to figure out which way you’re going to go. Nothing is ever perfect.”
Caroline Mulroney had any number of reasons to stay where she was. But her mother, for one, isn’t even slightly surprised she’s where she is now. “Public service is in our kids’ blood,” she says.