Washington - It is interesting that Salvador Dali’s iconic surrealist painting The Persistence of Memory should now have its home in an American gallery, the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.
For I think the persistence of memory is one of the things which distinguishes American people and their culture. Perhaps it is because of their comparatively short history as a nation (just 240 years), compared to their counterparts in Europe, that they tend to do historical memorials very well.
One of the most moving is that to the victims of the 9/11 terror attack in New York, but equally thought-provoking is the 150m-long slab of black granite in Washington DC, which includes the names of the 58 000 Americans (men and women) who died in the Vietnam War.
Keeping memory persistent requires work and that is why, on a hot August day, I have walked the entire length of the National Mall in Washington DC – that long (3.2km) stretch of parks and monuments running from the Capitol building (home of the House of Represen-tatives and the Senate) down to the Greco-Roman Lincoln Memorial – to see that Vietnam Memorial.
But first, a detour to the one honouring those who died in the Korean War (on the UN side). A jolt of emotion. Not because of the haunting metal statues of soldiers in the rain but because I see the words “South Africa” etched into the granite blocks on the side of the path with the names of the other countries who answered the UN call in 1950.
Little known, or may be forgotten by now, is the fact that, proportionally, South Africa suffered one of the highest death rates of any of the UN countries in that war. A total of 36 pilots and ground crew from the SA Air Force 2 Squadron died there between 1950 and 1953. My father was there. It was his “last war”, he always said.
Then I move across to the Three Servicemen statue, which looks out from under the elm trees across to the memorial. Rendered in bronze by artist Frederick Hart, it depicts a white, a black and a Hispanic soldier. It is the image we associate with Vietnam, having seen it, or ones like it, on TV and in films for decades.
It is also me, aged 19: carrying a machine gun and belts of bullets, fighting a politician’s war… and ultimately losing.
As I move slowly along the wall of the memorial, the enormity of a nation’s loss sinks in. The names are 25mm high. They disappear into the distance. They died as soldiers, whatever the rights or wrongs of the war. I stop for a moment. One soldier to another, I salute you.
But, later, as I stand on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, looking back towards the obelisk of the Washington Monument, I feel the presence of hundreds of thousands of people as they listen to a black preacher who had a dream of a non-racial America. It brings into focus a visit to the Martin Luther King memorial.
A country divided against itself. Black against white. Hippies and peaceniks against the soldiers.
Will the words of King (now chiselled into stark white marble, outlast the enmity?
I absorb the words:
“We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”
This is a country unafraid to confront its past and deal with its demons.
In the Newseum, in downtown DC, which is a history of journalism, the scars of the 1960s and ’70s are laid bare for all to see. You can listen to John Lennon’s stirring anti-war song, Give Peace a Chance, and then hear Sergeant Barry Sadler’s Ballad of the Green Beret, an homage to duty and country.
The Newseum is another place which reminds me at once of the nobility of our craft as journalists… and how lucky I am to have survived. I gaze up at the roll of journalists who died to get the story out.
My eye wanders up and down the translucent, backlit list of names. 1994. I can’t find them. Then I do. Abdul Sharif. Ken Oosterbroek. Taken down by bullets on the East Rand. I worked with them both. And in this quiet corner of a foreign field, their names live on.
Washington (in the District of Columbia – it is not a state in itself) is a place where, despite the fact it is the HQ of the world’s No 1 superpower, history is around every corner. Many of the multiple museums and art galleries are free. There are must-visit places at the Smithsonian Institute’s various museums, but particularly Space and Flight and the African Art collection.
With its monuments and museums, Washington is nevertheless a place that is all about Now, about the Moment. And about the Future.
It is also the sort of déjà vu place you have been before… of course: hundreds of times on various big and little screens. The Capitol. The White House.
The latter is a bit of an anti-climax when I get there on my way back from the memorials. Because of the security awareness across the US, you can no longer stand at the fence and look across the lawns. The road in front is now permanently blocked off. Cops are stationed all over.
But it is still striking. It still has gravitas. It still exudes power. And it is still is one of the world’s best places to snap a selfie… Yo Barack! How ya doing?
Elsewhere, Washington – at least the Washington within the “Beltway” ringroad – is an appealing place. There are wide roads, modern buildings (none is allowed to be higher than a certain height to allow unfettered sight of the monuments, says guide Tom Thompson of Big Bus Tours in DC); plenty of parks, lakes and rivers. The residential area of Georgetown, with its elegant timeless townhouses, must be one of the most desirable addresses on earth.
Downtown DC has some of the aura of a European city with cafés and restaurants, but without the centuries of grime; Washington really is a clean, tidy city. Apart from the green belts, parks and the forests of the surrounding states of Virginia and Maryland, trees have been planted at regular intervals along the main boulevards and the bases of these trees are often festooned with flower beds. Very pretty. Very relaxing.
Washington is also a surprising place. Its greenery will surprise you, especially if, like me, your yardstick for American cities is New York or Los Angeles. Its cleanliness will surprise you for the same reasons.
When you leave, you can’t help but think: this is how a city should be.
* www.washington.org
* Brendan Seery was a guest of South African Airways
If You Go...
* Summer can be scorching (mid to high 30s), while winter is freezing with a metre or more of snow at times. Spring, or autumn (when the beautiful trees are changing colour), is the best time.
* SA passport-holders require a visa for entry to the US.
* Nothing is cheap, with our rand the way it is. However, you’ll find plenty of “street food” trucks which offer excellent food – from German to Thai – at reasonable prices.
* SAA flies four times a week to Washington via Accra, Ghana. It’s about five hours to Ghana, then an hour waiting on the plane before another 10-plus hours to DC. On our trip, flying two of the legs economy class and two in business, I have to say SAA is still a good airline. Service was good, staff were friendly and the food was good in both classes.
Brendan Seery, Saturday Star