Heritage hunting in Washington DC

Nowhere else could provide a better view into the heart of American patriotism. As a living monument to the United States' founding principles of equality and freedom, its capital, Washington DC, is an ideal place to explore the origins of American culture. And on no day is the patriotism more evident than on July 4, Independence Day.

By 9am on the public holiday, the streets are beginning to fill with a steady stream of red, white and blue. And, with the streets adorned in these national colours, any American will likely tell you this confidence and national pride reflect an intrinsic part of what it means to be an American. Of course, if pressed, they will probably say the same thing about almost every component of their physical surroundings.

The vendors lining every street, joggers pacing around public park space, and the neat rows of various Smithsonian museums: each testament to a tradition of freedom and egalitarian principles that form the backbone of the nation.

Of course, in Australia, it's obvious to us the US doesn't have a monopoly on freedom and democracy. Having migrated here from the States as a child, I remember a small sense of betrayal as I realised the defining values of my first home were, in fact, less distinctively American than I had thought. The nationalistic songs we had recited in elementary school suddenly rang hollow.

But while a revision to my world view was certainly warranted, I had failed to recognise the important role the US played in the development of modern democracy. In the context of the day, to establish a system of representative democracy professing a commitment to "freedom, liberty and justice for all" was a great experiment, and a great risk for a newly independent nation.

Washington DC, through its museums and statues, monuments and government buildings, celebrates a set of principles that are not unique to the US but which hold a special place in the national identity.

In symbolic significance, the allegorical Statue of Freedom has the place of honour atop the great dome of the Capitol building, the seat of the US Congress. Carved in white marble, the building stands at the far eastern end of the National Mall, an orienting beacon to the mingling masses below.

Given the Capitol's popularity, it's advisable to book tours in advance. Having been fortunate enough to obtain our "golden tickets", we find ourselves in one of the most enviable positions for an American on the Fourth of July.

Our entrance into the Capitol complex starts almost half a block away as we descend to an underground foyer. Once through security, the foyer's massive amphitheatre opens up before us, unveiling two long lines of statues extending in either direction.

Representing only a portion of the Capitol's collection of statues, these figures depict some of the US' most influential citizens. Each State has contributed two characters from its history, ranging from Alabama's Helen Keller to Wyoming's Chief Washakie. My personal favourite is the opulent replica of Hawaii's King Kamehameha I, a muscular figure draped in a gold-leaf robe.

Our tour of the Capitol building proper is phenomenal. With dazzling and apparently indefatigable enthusiasm, our guide leads us through each chamber. Along the way, we are introduced to the idiosyncrasies and legends associated with every room, from the empty crypt of George Washington to the little-known acoustic properties of the old senate hall, which may have given John Adams his political "clairvoyance".

I'm particularly taken with the striking murals by Constantino Brumidi, which circle the inside of the Great Rotunda. With their deft touch and hidden images, these paintings memorialise a history of struggle and liberation. Illustrated with classical reverence and positioned beneath the distinctive dome of the Capitol, the atmosphere is reminiscent of a cathedral.

This is, no doubt, due partly to the architect's imitation of the famous dome of St Paul's Cathedral in London, but the religious undertones also reflect an early American tendency for respect for the forefathers bordering on idolatry. The similarity between the ceiling fresco, The Apotheosis of Washington, and the religious work of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel is, if nothing else, intriguing. It seems that, at times, the country's devotion to ideals of freedom and justice has been transferred to the authors of history who articulated their necessity.

While no man is worshipped to quite the same extent as George Washington, the third US president, Thomas Jefferson, claims his own firm hold on the national psyche. Most famous for penning the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson also played a key role in establishing the Library of Congress.

On the other side of an underground corridor that leads away from the Capitol, the library once consisted of 6500 books, bought for $24,000 from Jefferson's personal collection. Today, it has expanded to include a copy of every book, movie and musical recording successfully to have passed through the US Patent Office - a collection of more than 150 million items.

The entire collection, once available for the general public to peruse at leisure, is now unfortunately available only by appointment for the use of researchers. But with the plethora of exhibitions rotating through the library's other halls, there is still more than enough material to keep visitors occupied for hours.

Of particular note is the library's permanent display of two of the world's most historically significant bibles: the Giant Bible of Mainz, one of the last bibles handwritten in Europe, and one of only three perfect vellum copies of the Gutenberg Bible, the first Western book to be printed with movable typeface.

Unfortunately, most of Jefferson's original book collection was burned in the Capitol's fire of 1851. But copies of the lost books have since been sourced elsewhere and are presented alongside the 2000 surviving originals to recreate Jefferson's library for public viewing. What really distinguishes the experience of visiting the Library of Congress, though, is its architectural beauty. Crafted in veined marble, the grandeur of its main Great Hall rivals that of a European palace. Quotations set in gold lettering around the upper edge up the room urge onlookers towards the pursuit of wisdom, beckoning them to the enlightening contents of the library's collection.

Later that evening, as we enjoy the annual public Independence Day Concert on the sloping lawns of the Capitol, I cast my eye over the gathered crowd and wonder what the nation's forefathers would make of it all. The image, of American families celebrating a common heritage in the shadow of their legacy, must be close to the future they dreamed of.

Undeniably, the government and the capital city the founding fathers left behind are imperfect. Producing a society where all can truly prosper continues to be a work in progress for the US.

So we absorb the picnicking and fireworks, a larger-than-life spectacle interspersed with salutes to the troops. It is, without a doubt, a representative snapshot of American culture if there ever was one. And in this moment, I can't imagine a better place to explore this heritage - my heritage - in the intellectual and historical heart of it all.