To the museum of the old Republic, also the mausoleum of the President for Life. Fascinating place. Free admission on the first Thursday of the month. Then to the coffeehouse for a couple hours with Pynchon. Bridging the worlds. Two fundamentally different forms of consciousness. And two ineluctable aspects of cognition, developed within the age in the context of each polis.
Divided sky, the wind blows high. (Cf. the two points on the top of the "Non-aligned" monument near the river.)
The important bit, though, now that we're comfortably adrift in in the wasteland of things, is that each of these ways of thinking that dominated the politics of the last century -- whether rooted in the consciousness of present social situation, or aloft with the archetypes of the mind -- in addition to being a certain way of living, is also a way of seeing the world. Any society-wide way of thinking is deeply rooted in its epistemic motive. It's how the people of that time and place looked at the world and developed a vocabulary about it that enabled them to see the world.
The danger, now that we're past ideology and alignment, is that when we discard these ways of thinking, we're also, sub silento, discarding both the underlying epistemologies and the act of particularizing the things in the world. It is possible to live in the world and not notice the world. These politically polarized ways of thinking caused us to look more deeply into the world (I am sedulously avoiding the phrase "things that are the case") and have a more rich and salient experience of life itself. Life was meaningful for the revolutionary, not merely because it was good to do something to help the others, but also because they had to come to some understanding of the world in order to do that, and to come to that understanding, they had to investigate the world more closely, and think about it more carefully.
tl;dr: Freedom from history can also be freedom from experience.