Nationalism is the belief that the nation and the state should be united. This can mean the nation should have a state; or that the state should have a nation. One justification of Canada as a nation-state has been that there exists a distinct Canadian identity which requires an independent political expression. But if such national identity is of itself elusive, if not illusory, where does this leave us? And if a part of Canada asserts its own distinct identity, what argument can we offer against its separation?

The alternative is to define the nation indirectly: to start from the existence, real or potential, of a state, and define the nation as that which creates and shapes the state. That is the American experience. It was founded on an idea of a great republic of just laws. The American nation came later, through its participation in the framing of those laws.

To create a sense of Canadian nationhood capable of transcending Quebec nationalism, and the thousand narrower allegiances to which we are naturally inclined, we must learn from the U.S. example: not the flag-waving patriotism that says ''we're the best,'' but the nationalism that arises from personal involvement in the collective processes that define the state, through which it is discovered, ''we are us.'' If we are to remain independent from the Americans, we must in some ways become more like them.

MAGNIFICENT DOCUMENT

The starting point is a belief in the principles that underly the state. If information is the currency and the commerce of the modern economy, ideas are the binding force of a modern nation. We can no longer be defined by what we are, but by what we believe. Our nation will be revived as a Dominion of ideas. To be a Canadian should mean to stand for something. Right now, Canadians don't even stand for the national anthem.

The root source of U.S. nationalism lies in their constitution. In part, this owes much simply to its magnificence as a document. Gladstone called it ''the most wonderful work ever struck off at a given time by the brain and purpose of man.'' But it also owes much to what the political historian Louis Hartz has called the ''cult of constitution-worship.'' The constitution has been given a central place in U.S. life and thought. The American, above all, knows his rights.

The Constitution, and the liberties spelled out in the Charter of Rights, might play the same ''nation-defining'' role in Canada. We are sons of John Locke as much as they. Liberty is no more inherently American than democracy is inherently Greek. The charter is not merely a libertarian but a nationalist document. It sets forth the core of shared freedoms around which the nation is formed, and in the enjoyment of which we are united.

How can we inculcate a deeper commitment to the Constitution and the values it espouses? The best teacher is experience. Americans elect everybody - there are more elected officials than bank tellers in the U.S. - then keep them on a close leash. The spirit of democracy infuses every aspect of American political life, from the town-hall meetings of New England to state referendums to the primary system of leadership voting. It lives in televised court proceedings, in recall votes and Senate confirmation hearings and an array of other means by which a feeling of connection with the political system is developed in the individual.

De Tocqueville noticed this integrating property of American democracy more than a century ago. ''The most powerful way, and perhaps the only remaining way, in which to interest men in their country's fate is to make them take a share in its government,'' he wrote. ''Political institutions of the U.S. put citizens in constant contact and compel them to carry out great undertakings together.''

In Canada, by contrast, the fundamental principle by which we are governed is: not in front of the children. Without real input into the process, Canadians have simply become a sullen mass of complainers, with nothing better on their minds than squabbling over state favors, and no sense of attachment to the nation beyond the latest baby bonus or transportation subsidy. If you treat the people like children, they become children.

''An educated, informed public will not emerge in Canada until there is a general conviction that the time and effort put into education would be worthwhile,'' Jon Pammett argues in Political Education in Canada. It's not surprising, therefore, that Canadians don't know what it means to be Canadian: they've never been asked.