The Battle Over Greenland: Why Trump Wants the Arctic Island — and Why Denmark Is Pushing Back
US President Donald Trump’s renewed push to bring Greenland under American control has turned a long-dormant geopolitical curiosity into a full-blown transatlantic crisis. Coming just days after a US military operation captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, Trump’s remarks have unsettled allies, alarmed Denmark, and raised uncomfortable questions about how far Washington is willing to go to secure strategic dominance in the Arctic.
Why Greenland has suddenly moved to the centre of global politics
For decades, Greenland existed on the margins of international affairs — remote, sparsely populated, and largely insulated from great-power rivalry. That insulation is now gone. Trump’s assertion that the US “needs Greenland from the standpoint of national security” has placed the world’s largest island at the heart of a confrontation involving sovereignty, alliance politics, and Arctic militarisation.
Denmark, which exercises sovereignty over Greenland, has rejected any suggestion that the island could be “taken over”. Greenland’s own leadership has gone further, describing Trump’s remarks as disrespectful and dangerous, particularly in light of recent US military actions elsewhere.
The strategic logic driving Trump’s Greenland fixation
At the core of Trump’s argument lies geography. Greenland sits between North America and Europe, making it a critical node in Arctic defence. For US military planners, control or dominance over the island enhances early-warning capabilities against missile launches from Russia, China, or North Korea.
The US already operates the Pituffik Space Base in northwest Greenland, a key installation for missile detection and space surveillance. The island also borders the strategically vital GIUK gap — the maritime corridor between Greenland, Iceland, and the UK — through which submarines and naval vessels move between the Arctic and the Atlantic.
As climate change reduces sea ice and opens new Arctic shipping routes, Greenland’s location has only grown more valuable.
Beyond defence: minerals, resources and Arctic competition
Greenland’s importance is not purely military. Beneath its ice lie vast mineral reserves. Surveys indicate that 25 of the 34 minerals classified by the European Commission as “critical raw materials” are present on the island, including rare earth elements essential for electronics, renewable energy systems, and advanced weapons.
With China dominating global rare-earth supply chains, Western interest in Greenland’s resources has intensified. Although the island has banned oil and gas extraction, mining potential remains significant. Trump has publicly framed his interest as defence-driven, but senior figures in his orbit have openly linked Greenland to critical minerals and natural resources.
A long American history of trying to acquire Greenland
Trump’s interest is not unprecedented. The United States has eyed Greenland since the 19th century. In 1867, US officials identified its strategic and mineral value. During World War II, American forces established a presence there after Nazi Germany occupied Denmark.
In 1946, President Harry Truman formally offered to buy Greenland for $100 million — an offer Denmark rejected. Nevertheless, a 1951 defence agreement allowed the US to maintain military bases on the island, a framework that remains in place.
Trump revived the purchase idea during his first term, calling it a “large real estate deal”. Denmark dismissed the proposal as “absurd”, prompting Trump to cancel a state visit. His return to the idea in late 2024, and again now, signals a more confrontational phase.
Why Denmark and Greenland see this as a red line
What distinguishes the current episode from earlier rhetoric is timing and tone. Trump’s comments followed a US military operation against another sovereign state, amplifying fears that pressure on Greenland could move beyond words.
Greenland’s Prime Minister has warned against “fantasies of annexation” and stressed that the island is not for sale. Denmark’s Prime Minister, Mette Frederiksen, has stated bluntly that the US has “no right” to annex any part of the Danish kingdom and warned that such an act would shatter trust within NATO.
European leaders have rallied behind Denmark, issuing joint statements affirming that Greenland’s future can only be decided by its people and Copenhagen — not external powers.
The NATO dilemma and the risk of alliance rupture
Trump has refused to rule out the use of force, and the White House has described Greenland’s acquisition as a national security priority. Such statements strike at the heart of NATO, an alliance built on the principle of collective defence among sovereign equals.
For Denmark, the threat is existential. An attack on Greenland would place NATO in an unprecedented position — one member using force against another’s territory. European leaders have warned that Arctic security must be pursued collectively, not through unilateral action.
What Greenlanders themselves want
Greenland’s political aspirations add another layer of complexity. The island gained home rule in 1979 and self-government in 2009, though Denmark still controls defence and foreign policy. Many Greenlandic parties favour eventual independence, but that sentiment does not translate into support for joining the United States.
Polling consistently shows overwhelming opposition among Greenlanders to US control. The dominant view in Nuuk is that the island’s future — whether greater autonomy or independence — must be decided internally and in accordance with international law.
Why Greenland matters far beyond the Arctic
The struggle over Greenland is about more than one island. It reflects a broader shift toward power politics, where strategic geography, resources, and military advantage increasingly override norms of sovereignty and alliance restraint.
If the US were to force the issue, it would not only destabilise the Arctic but also weaken the foundations of NATO and the rules-based international order. Greenland, once peripheral, has become a test case for how far great powers are willing to go — and how firmly smaller states and alliances are prepared to push back.