We often hear about transforming this tiny country of ours into a centre of excellence. We rightfully boast of the enormous wealth of our only natural resource – our human capital. Many Maltese have excelled in so many different fields.

My ears are still ringing after last Monday’s concert and the sheer joy of listening to Joseph Calleja and the many other Maltese artists who performed at Luxol, in St Andrew’s. They were accompanied by the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra, which helped transform the Calleja concert into a truly magical event.

I once formed part of the Manoel Theatre Orchestra, the precursor of the Malta Philharmonic. Without trying to compare the two, I do remember the very humble resources that the MTO had available, from the old rehearsal rooms, which now house The Fortress Builders Interpretation Centre, to the fact that today’s MPO can boast of a mix of both local and foreign musicians whereas it then had to struggle with tremendous limitations despite the indefatigable energy of Joseph Sammut.

There is no doubt to my mind that Maltese artists have been among the greatest beneficiaries of the meeting and exchange of local and foreign talent that is resulting in greater motivation and the achievement of much higher standards.

The problem with being such a small country is that we can easily fall into the trap of being insular. We once cracked a joke about Mosta being the centre of the world because it is in the centre of Malta and Malta is in the centre of the Mediterranean, which is the centre of the word. I don’t mean this in any disparaging way because Mosta is, of course, a beautiful town though not the centre of the world. This anecdote merely reflects our tendency to inflate, sometimes beyond proportion.

Why does the Air Malta in-flight magazine still have to refer to the Mosta cupola as being the third largest in the world? Apart from the fact that I very much doubt how true that still is, is it so important at the end of the day?

I lived for a few years in Żurrieq and am quite familiar with the tribal nature of village politics, dominated by two rival band clubs that still battle it out for supremacy, though, thankfully, not to the extent that the Hadi and Houthi forces do so in Yemen.

The rivalry in Żurrieq and in many other towns and villages revolves mostly around who was the first and who has the best and the largest. Indeed, our villages do rightfully boast of a rich heritage. To remain in Żurrieq, I always marvelled, for example, at the magnificent Mattia Preti paintings which adorn the parish church.

However, we have a tendency to go overboard in an almost Kim Jong-un fashion. The result is that we then end up applauding whatever is churned out simply because it is ‘ours’, even where this is of little or no significant value.

Back to what is ‘Maltese’.

There was a time when this was in fashion even on the national plane. It may well be that, following indepedence, there was a rediscovery of what it meant to be Maltese, possibly fuelled by the fact that we were now masters or mistresses of our own destiny.

This was accentuated even further with the deposition of the British monarch as head of State when Malta became a Republic and, rightfully, started to choose one of its own as head of State. This was also the time when we became very inward-looking as a country, really going overboard to shove perceived Maltese identity down everyone’s throats in every sphere, starting from the economy, with the protectionist measures that led to that ridiculous restriction on foreign imports, to education and culture.

Moreover, it was also a period when we had to go through all that mental anguish about Europe, Cain and Abel. I still remember the shame we felt as students of the University of Malta when Romania’s co-dictator, Elena Ceaușescu, was awarded a doctorate honoris causa. Whereras, on the one hand, we were being told to sing the praises of anything of Maltese origin, on the other hand, most of our contacts with the world out there were with countries such as Romania and North Korea.

I also recall attending the Johann Strauss School of Music, in Valletta. Now this was a superb initiative by the government in 1975 with strong Austrian backing. For a few years, that building, in Old Bakery Street, became a hive of cultural activity.

Joseph Calleja and Carmine Lauri are living proof that success is within our reach, even as a nation

Verena Maschat and her brother, Alexander, managed to instil in many of us then a passion for music and a sense that we could achieve more. After the Maschats left, a number of North Korean musicians were sent to teach at the School of Music. I remember “Mr Lee” who tried to improve my cello technique and the frustration of not being able to communicate verbally because he knew absolutely no Maltese or English. I eventually lost all interest.

Which brings me back to where I started: the ambition to achieve the highest standards possible. Despite the great strides forward we have taken together as a nation, we still tend to make do at times with whatever comes. We settle with mediocrity and seem happy with it.

We spend millions of euros on a stupendous entrance to Valletta, yet are happy to have hawkers selling shoes or bread just before you step onto the bridge to enter the city, or allow the newspaper seller to mount his boards against the walls of the new entrance.

At least, we will be spared of having the monti sandwiched between Parliament and the open theatre.

How often de we experience or read or hear about delays in the completion of projects, often causing major inconvenience or even posing health or other risks? In the street where I live, it has taken the contractor a month to change a stretch of pavement. I guess that, so long as he gets paid, the contractor doesn’t give a hoot about the quality of the work carried out or any inconvenience to the residents.

Theses are symptoms of what I fear may be a more widepsread malady. At least, I seem to encounter it pretty often.

We sometimes hear people complain about high European standards being imposed on us as members of the European Union. Would we much rather aim for something less? The desire to see this country excel and achieve the highest standards possible was one of the factors that led people like me to work for Malta to join the EU.

Is it wrong for us to aspire to reach, for example, our Europe 2020 targets such as spending the equivalent of two per cent of our GDP in research and development, or reducing carbon emissions by five per cent, or lowering the early school-leaving rate to 10 per cent?

These are all factors directly related to our quality of life and we simply cannot aspire to be among the best if we do not also tackle these and other issues.

It also boils down to the individual’s ambition and drive. Unfortunately, I often face situations where individuals underperform, such as graduates seeking a job and expecting to be given one as some birthright rather than because they are best qualified and the most suitable. This is ever so frustrating, especially in contrast to those individuals, of who thankfully there are many, having the right motivation and ambition not only to prove themselves but also to contribute to the achievement of higher targets and better standards.

Joseph Calleja and Carmine Lauri, onstage together last Monday, are living proof that success is within our reach, even as a nation, and that we only have ourselves to blame if we accept to settle for anything less.