There is nothing objectionable about the spouse or partner of a political leader offering support during an election campaign. It is natural that they accompany their loved one to activities, appear in photographs, speak to people and even use their own social media platforms to encourage voters to back the party their partner leads. Politics places enormous strain on family life, and public displays of support are understandable.
But in this electoral campaign, the lines between support and political authority have become blurred.
Both Lydia Abela and Sarah Bajada have been given unusually prominent roles by their respective political camps. The issue is not personal, nor is it a question of gender. The same argument would apply if the roles were reversed and it were a female leader whose husband or partner was being projected in the same manner.
The problem is institutional and political: neither Abela nor Bajada holds elected office. Neither of them carries executive responsibility. Neither of them can be held accountable by the electorate.
The Nationalist Party crossed into awkward territory when it promoted an event in Buskett presenting Sarah Bajada as the central figure, with Opposition leader Alex Borg described merely as being "in attendance". It projected the wrong message. The party leader is the person seeking the public's mandate to become prime minister. Reducing him to an accessory in an activity centred on his partner was not the right move.
On the government side, matters have gone even further. Statements issued by the Department of Information on behalf of Lydia Abela are difficult to justify. The DOI is a State institution funded by taxpayers and intended to communicate government business. Lydia Abela is not a minister, not a parliamentary secretary, and not an elected official. She occupies no constitutional role. Giving her access to official government communication structures creates confusion about where institutional authority begins and ends.
More problematic still was the decision to have her announce policy measures during a Labour Party activity on Mother's Day. The subject matter may have been linked to women and families, but that does not alter the principle involved. Political measures should be announced by those who will carry responsibility for implementing them and who can later be scrutinised over whether they fulfilled their promises.
Who answers if such measures are abandoned, delayed or altered? Who is questioned in Parliament? Who faces the electorate over them? Certainly not someone who occupies no formal political office.
It is here that the distinction between symbolism and authority becomes essential. The wife of the prime minister or the partner of the opposition leader may have social relevance, but they hold no institutional mandate. Their visibility comes entirely through their relationship with a political leader, not through any democratic process.
This does not mean they should disappear from public life. Far from it. They should be treated respectfully and allowed the space to support their partners in the manner they deem fit. But support has limits. The temptation to use them as surrogate political figures should be resisted, particularly when that involves policy announcements.
Malta has increasingly moved toward personality-driven politics, where image sometimes overtakes substance. Elevating political partners into semi-official roles feeds that trend further. It risks creating an unhealthy culture in which proximity to power is mistaken for power itself.
Ultimately, elections are contests between candidates, parties and programmes. Accountability matters. Voters know who they elect, and they also know who they do not elect.
Lydia Abela and Sarah Bajada deserve respect as individuals and as partners supporting men engaged in public life. But respect also means recognising the boundaries of their role.
They are companions to political leaders, not political office holders themselves. That distinction should remain clear.