Since it was born, Pakistan has suffered a rather severe identity disorder.

Unfortunately its guardians have lacked the wisdom and rationality necessary to treat such conditions aggressively and at least prevent deterioration even if a cure is not possible. As a result, today we find a nation in a state of acute ill-health, struggling to stay alive even as the 'hakims' gathered around the bedside murmur words such as 'extremism', 'radicalism' or 'secularism'.

The crisis should not really be a cause of much surprise. Pakistan was, after all, forged by a man who -- in his personal life -- made little association with the religion to which he was born. In his political life, he used Islam to serve a purpose that right into early 1947 many in the subcontinent believed would be impossible, painfully carving out a new nation from within the Indian whole. Pakistan would emerge on the world's map as the only country other than Israel, established a year later, to be founded on the basis of religion. But then, just to make things more confusing, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, during his short stint at the helm of affairs in the country he had played a key role in creating, did all he could to establish within it the secularism he himself ardently believed in. He did so, of course, most famously in his August 11, 1947 speech to the Constituent Assembly -- but also on other occasions. As a leader he quite clearly believed a State could not; should not; have a religion.

Is it any wonder then that we, as a nation, are rather confused? The confusion through the years has hardly been helped by politicians such as Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who spoke of Islam as the nation's religion, democracy as its politics and socialism as its economy. Some would question if such an order can actually co-exist. And, like Jinnah, Bhutto too was not averse to using religion to serve political purposes when it suited him to do so -- with disastrous consequences as laws he put in place to appease the right paved the way for a headlong descent into orthodoxy.

The real damage to any hope Pakistan may have had of stumbling along in the hazy, but at least essentially liberal, umbrella held up by men like Bhutto was inflicted by a non-political parliament hand-picked by General Ziaul Haq. As part of his 'Islamization' measures -- which of course served essentially to bolster his own power -- the Objectives Resolution of 1949, till then only a preamble to the constitution, was included in the text as an operative part. It now appears, oddly enough, in two places in that much mangled document. The 8thAmendment gave protection to this move -- and created the dichotomy we have lived with since then, struggling with the mayhem created by attempting to place two codes side by side within a text intended to spell out the essential law of the land.

Phrases such as those which delegate 'Allah's sovereignty' to the people of Pakistan or state that democracy, equality and other basic principles are to be practiced as 'enunciated by Islam' make the task of deciphering the constitution a fearfully difficult one. Provisions that all laws conform to Islam are a cause of much debate given differences over interpretation and leading lawyers have been known to tear out their hair while studying a code that many believe now makes only limited sense. Sadly, much like the case of the proverbial new clothes donned by the Emperor, few have the courage to say this in so many words. The existence of the Federal Shariah Court since 1980 has created a parallel judicial system which adds to the chaos swirling through a country which does not know itself.

Mangled laws lead to mangled thoughts. Ours are certainly very twisted indeed. The issue of removing the Objectives Resolution from the body of the constitution has not been discussed even as the parliament has worked out the18th Amendment Bill. Yet it is crucial to salvaging the constitution, removing ambiguity and converting it once more into a document that can serve the purpose for which it was intended. In the presence of the Objectives Resolution as a part of the constitution, any notion of secularism is impossible. At forums outside parliament, the issue has rarely been taken up. One reason for this is that secularism, and indeed many issues than link up with religion, scare us. Like children frightened by a thunder-storm, we cover our ears or cower under the bed whenever they are mentioned.

The fear has some rationale. The extremist groups -- backed by the hard-line schools of Islamic thinking imported into the country by Zia -- intimidate many of us. Their influence has grown, though it is still possible that empowerment for people who most of all yearn food, education, shelter and healthcare could lead to some layers of fundamentalist thinking being brushed aside. These factors matter more to most people than the nature of State.

We do however need far more debate on the matter. It is discussion, open, uninhibited talk that opens up minds and brings neurons in brains into motion. Secularism is an idea we approach with trepidation, even though it has no links with religiosity. This cannot change quickly. The past ensures this. But as we saw when Pakistan was created, Bhutto elected or East Pakistan torn away history brings many surprises. For Pakistan, the struggle to find its real identity continues. It will succeed only if it examines the contents of its Supreme Law and also its society that has changed drastically over the decades, virtually beyond recognition as strife created by religious differences continues to grow, exerting a huge strain on harmony within a deeply schizophrenic State.

On September 12, 2010, something unthinkable happened in Turkey. The long-awaited referendum to determine the role of military was endorsed by 58 percent of the electorate, paving way for far-reaching constitutional changes. The referendum was called by the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) on the eve of the 30th anniversary of the last full-blown military coup which resulted in the rewriting of the constitution to buttress the hegemonic position of the military.

Even though the referendum was on the cards since Prime Minister Erdogan rode to power in 2002, he did not feel confident enough to challenge the state [read military] until he settled down to his job. The slow process of constitutional changes began with drafting of a bill which led it to be put before the people of Turkey to do away with the "shame of coups" as Erdogan put it (Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, with a knack for coining phrases, called it a culture of coupgemony). As predicted, the referendum proved to be extremely divisive, splitting the country down the middle. As a result the referendum campaign became a straight fight between the ruling party and the opposition composed of nationalists and secular parties, with Kurdish parties choosing to boycott the referendum.

Both camps read different things into the referendum. While the ruling party saw the referendum as a chance to recast the political equation in favour of democracy and civilian control over the military, the opposition parties -- both secular and nationalists -- viewed it as AKP's attempt to erode the secular basis of Turkish state and to continue the creeping authoritarian agenda of the ruling party. The divisions ran so deep that the result was predicted to be a close run thing.

Against this backdrop, most observers saw it as a referendum on AKP's record in office. In any event Prime Minister Erdogan emerged out of this contest strongly with 58 percent of voters from a 77 percent turnout backing him. The result is a ringing endorsement of Erdogan's popularity and a deep-seated desire of the electorate to put behind the culture of coups and join in the European Union.

The pattern of votes cast also confirmed deep regional divisions, with "Yes" vote largely concentrated in Anatolian rim and "No" vote spread over the Aegean and Mediterranean coasts. AKP deserves full credit for taking on the military which has so far considered itself to be the guardian of Turkey. This has not come easy to AKP though. Ever since coming to power in 2002, the AKP administration had set for itself the goal of reducing the influence of military and joining the EU which requires Turkey to update its human rights and democratic credentials. The EU discourse on human rights was the only available route to gradually hack away at the so far unchallengeable dominant position of the military in Turkish life.

Until now, military has determined the course of politics, making and unmaking of civilian governments, pretty much like Pakistan. The clash between AKP-led administration and the powerful military is rooted, on one hand, in the reconcilable tension between the larger interests of democracy and the narrow interests of Turkish army. On the other hand, this clash is rooted in opposing ideologies of military-secular mind-set and AKP's conservative religious power base. There is also economic angle to this clash -- as AKP represents the conservative Anatolian business class which is resentful of military-secular elite's hold over state-directed capitalism from which Anatolian class has been shut out.

Together these inherent incompatibilities have led to a series of political skirmishes which eventuated in calling the September 12 referendum to refer the matter to the electorate for their final say. In the event, people of Turkey spoke and backed the constitutional package seeking to run things on the civilian-dominant political model.

The amendments put before the electorate covered a gamut of areas which go to the heart of reforming current political arrangements. These amendments seek to lift immunity from coup-plotters of the past to bring military officers to trial in civilian courts and bar military court from trying civilians and to give parliament a final say over the appointment of judges (why there is so much judicial uproar over this issue in Pakistan) and to give ordinary citizens the right to form unions and initiate complaints to higher courts. More importantly, the rights of minorities, women, children and elderly have been ensured in line with EU legislation. Now that these amendments have been ratified by the electorate, rights groups are already gearing up for initiating legal proceedings against the military officers for human rights abuses.

With this bold referendum, Turkish democracy has come of age. The move has come in for praise from all countries, including the EU and the US. AKP seems to have achieved a big victory which augurs well for the future of Turkey. By cleverly using the discourse of EU's human rights, Turkish political party system seems to have put a lid on the interfering influence of the army and its unaccountable ways. There is little chance of the military resisting these changes as EU's influence on the military shenanigans is a potent and deterrent factor.

That these long overdue changes have been put into motion is a moment of deep reflection for our conservative religious parties who often act as a B team of military regimes. More significantly, the soft peddling of political parties, historically opposed to military's rule, on Altaf Hussain statements is deeply puzzling in the context of Turkish developments.

We have grown up seeing dramatic clips in movies where the mere thought of a daughter leaving home after marriage makes an otherwise brave mom sniffle, and a father turn away to hide his moist eyes. Today, there is something other than marriage that takes them away from us and way too soon. What's more, it is us as parents who facilitate this separation. That, of course, is our children leaving home for better education - abroad or to another city.

The mass exodus of youth phenomenon that our country is witnessing today has its plus points no doubt. Exposure, confidence, better education, promise of better lives for our children than we had - we know it's worth it for the good of our children. But everything comes with a price. It is not easy for a parent to let go.

Saima Rauf, an artist and a mother of two, recently experienced this as her son left home for higher education. "It is very tough," says Rauf, obviously grappling with the sense of missing her son. "You feel empty inside knowing that now they have left home and would only come for a few days as guests. But you have to let them go for their own good and have to deal with the emptiness. For that you must remain busy, like I have again started giving my drawing more time."

The first time is the worst, as are the initial days and months, shares Tazeen Ahmed, home-maker and mother. "When they go for the first time you feel lonely, depressed and stressed out because you are not sure whether they will achieve the goal or the purpose they are being sent for, but then with the lapse of time you get used to it," says Ahmed's voice of experience.

It is not just emotionally difficult, but parents have very real fears about their children once they are away. Sadia Agha, a philanthropist, describes how she felt when her children left home for greener pastures. "As a mother, I am scared everyday of so many things. What if the kids get on to a bad track; I trust them and have taught them the basic values, but it's a big bad world out there. Youth is a time when emotions are running high; girls and boys being together unattended, western influence, the threat of alcohol, them all alone out there," says Agha, sharing her fears - fears which every parent faces but does not always voice.

This is doubly difficult as, today, many of us are prone to over-parenting. We have become "helicopter parents" hovering closely overhead, rarely out of reach, whether our children need us or not. Parents try to resolve their child's problems, and try to stop them from coming to harm by keeping them out of dangerous situations.

Hina Ansari, mother of three boys, is a self-proclaimed "reformed helicopter parent". "Now if my son is unable to call for a week or two, I do not have the urge to die like I used to! It is a matter of adjusting to a new lifestyle. And the earlier you let go of the apron string the better for both. It is easier said than done though. But you have to accept that you have trained them well, and you have to leave them in God's care. If you don't have faith in your children, how will they have faith in themselves?" Ansari is now using the time she has on hand well by going back to school and pursuing a degree.

Thus, even after they have left home, many parents know of every activity of their child, or think they do. Dr Tarannum Ahmed, mother of two, has both her children studying abroad. Thanks to information technology and phone packages, Ahmed talks to her children several times a day. They still have to ask her when they decide to go to a friend's for a day-spend. But this constant long-distance monitoring has taken its toll on her. She has to go and live with her children every time they move to a new dormitory, and shuttles between home and the US. Her son recently had a minor car accident. "It was the worst day for me; sitting thousands of miles away, helpless, not being able to be there. It's not easy…That is all I can say," says Ahmed, moved to tears by simply re-living that day.

Re-thinking, this monitoring is worth it, as the kids may have left the nest but the sense of belonging continues. And so it goes….their rooms remain intact, as they left them. The parents are always there for them in times of dire need. They come home for vacations and homes, once again albeit temporarily, are filled with laughter and chaos. Moms busily cook their children's favourite meals. Dads come home early from work. Children have the best of both worlds - they get a taste of independent living and gain confidence needed to face the world, but always have a place to come back to.