Our British love affair spans from beaver pelts to Brexit
A British Airways Boeing 787-800 Dreamliner touched down this past week at Pittsburgh International Airport, reviving a direct service route between Pittsburgh and London that had gone dormant 20 years earlier.
It’s a coincidence that the London-to-Pittsburgh route ceased in 1999, about the exact time the first euros were being minted for circulation in the newly formed global economic power to become known as the Eurozone.
The United Kingdom never did adopt the euro as its currency. The Brits clung proudly to their pound British sterling like a young bride preferring great grandma’s heirloom wedding ring over her suitor’s shiny new platinum one. But it’s interesting timing nonetheless — especially since, here we are 20 years later, with Britain in the role of now-jaded bride negotiating a divorce-style division of assets, the two-decade marriage to the continent on the rocks in a drama we’re calling Brexit.
It’s not the first time Britain has called off a courtship with Europe — nor the first time Western Pennsylvania had a supporting role in England’s star-crossed loves.
Two and a half centuries ago, French and British royal troops fought for control of the Allegheny, Monongahela and Ohio River valleys. The strategic convergence of these rivers had rival French and English names — Fort Duquesne and Fort Pitt. The name that stuck — Pittsburgh — commemorates Britain’s victory in the seven-year war that ended in 1763.
Back then, the most stable local currency was the beaver pelt. Those tall hats the guards wear outside Buckingham Palace? Yep. Beaver. Britain’s King George III would have disagreed and said the pound was more stable, but George turned out to be wrong about a lot of things. It was under George that the American and French revolutions upset global powers and established the paradigm of democratic republican rule.
Now, Britain is looking for trade partners to take up the anticipated slack in business with the mainland. Conditions are ripe for Britain and the United States to profit as the Trump administration continues to negotiate a trade deal with China and ratchets down sanctions while threatening a shutdown of the Mexican border.
That’s well and good. But let’s remain open-eyed — this is not an affair of innocence. Expect sophisticated unseen forces playing cultural matchmaker between the U.S. and Britain. Consider yet another coincidence, this time in the realm of entertainment. The rap musical “Hamilton,” now dominating American theater, depicts the unique historical character of Britain and the U.S., the traits and relationship that set them apart from other nations; and two blockbuster 2017 films, Christopher Nolan’s “Dunkirk” and Joe Wright’s “Darkest Hour,” released on the heels of the Brexit referendum, glorify Britain in 1940, which Churchill called the nation’s finest hour. These films circulate as the British are asking themselves some uncomfortable questions about their future, and seeking affirmation about their legendary national resolve.
British Airways credits the revival of the Pittsburgh flights to the Boeing 787-800 Dreamliner. It’s not the biggest of fastest jetliner by far, but it’s reliable, comfortable, low-maintenance vastly more fuel-efficient than many other jets that previously “jumped the pond.”
If we’re looking for an appropriate metaphor for this latest British-American romance, there might be none more fitting than the Dreamliner.
