Modern wars do not end at the front line. They seep into menus, maps, shop signs, family names, and museum labels. Once cannons fire and sanctions bite, language often becomes a weapon of its own.
We have renamed foods, towns, mountains, and even royal families to hide uncomfortable connections, to punish enemies, or to signal solidarity. Some of these renamings faded as tempers cooled. Others became so entrenched that most people today have no idea they began as wartime PR.
Below, we unpack some of the strangest things that were renamed because of war and political conflict—and how those new names reshaped memory long after the last shot.
French Fries, French Toast, and the Short, Loud Life of “Freedom Fries”
In the early 2000s, United States lawmakers decided you could still eat French fries—just not call them French. In 2003, as the United States prepared to invade Iraq, France openly opposed the war. The backlash was immediate. Two U.S. congressmen pushed for a symbolic gesture: in three key Washington cafeterias (including those serving Capitol Hill), “French fries” and “French toast” were rebranded as “freedom fries” and “freedom toast.”
Wealthy lobbyists did not dream this up in a boardroom. The idea came from a small restaurant owner in North Carolina, who had already relabeled his menu out of frustration with France. Lawmakers seized on the story, and cameras captured the new labels on the House cafeteria menu boards. For a brief moment, the rebrand worked as emotional theater.
Private diners and fast-food joints across the country followed suit, swapping “French fries” for “freedom fries” as a show of patriotic defiance. Yet the name had a built-in expiration date. As public opinion on the Iraq War shifted and relations with France normalized, “freedom fries” started to sound more embarrassing than bold.
The House cafeterias quietly switched back to “French fries,” and the symbolic stunt became a historical footnote—a reminder that language can be conscripted into service just as quickly as soldiers.
Berlin, Kitchener, and “Germantown”
If sausages and cabbage were not safe from wartime rebranding, towns stood even less chance. As anti-German hysteria surged in World War I, geographic names came under intense pressure.
One of the most striking examples is the Canadian city now known as Kitchener. For decades, it had proudly borne the name Berlin, reflecting the strong German heritage of many residents. But by 1916, after years of brutal trench warfare, a city named Berlin felt politically toxic.
A referendum was held. Under fierce social pressure and accusations of disloyalty, the population voted to abandon Berlin and adopt a more “patriotic” name: Kitchener, after a British field marshal who had died at sea. Overnight, a German-sounding city became a monument to British military heroism.
Similar stories unfolded across North America.
- Various Germantowns adopted more neutral names under social and political pressure.
- Some small U.S. communities quietly removed German references from their signs to avoid vandalism or boycott.
We often treat place names as timeless, but they are not. Each renaming erases one layer of identity and writes a new one on top—usually in the language of whoever holds power at that moment.
The British Royal Family’s Radical Rebrand
In 1917, the British monarchy pulled off one of the most successful rebrands in history. King George V sat on the throne of an empire fighting a brutal war against Germany. Yet his own family bore the unmistakably German dynastic name Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. Artillery shells named “Gotha”—after German bombers—were raining down on British soil. Anti-German feeling was sky-high.
The optics were catastrophic. By keeping a German-linked name while British soldiers died in the trenches, the royal family risked being seen as foreign, disloyal, or worse. European monarchies were already collapsing in Russia and elsewhere. Revolution was no longer an abstract fear. The response was swift and ruthless.
In July 1917, the king issued a royal proclamation: the family would henceforth use the solidly English surname “Windsor.” The choice evoked Windsor Castle, royal pageantry, and centuries-old English tradition. It severed the visible German connection in one stroke.
Today, most people know the royal family only as “the House of Windsor.” Very few realize that this reassuringly British name is a carefully crafted wartime product—born as much from fear of revolution as from patriotism.