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Donald Trump talks of the importance of Greenland and Panama to US security at the same time that Donald Trump Jr is visiting Greenland.
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Trump's Greenland gambit signals the emergence of a “New Great Game”—one where control of this Arctic giant has become the ultimate strategic prize. Like the 19th-century contest for Central Asia, this power struggle goes beyond land and ice: whoever commands Greenland gains the key to Arctic shipping lanes, critical raw materials, and military supremacy in an increasingly accessible polar region. As barriers melt, this autonomous territory of Denmark—though not part of the EU—has transformed from a remote outpost to the fulcrum of 21st-century geopolitical power.
Greenland is the world's largest island, strategically located in the Arctic between America and Europe. Despite its small population of 57,000, primarily Inuit, it holds immense geopolitical prominence due to its untapped energy potential, including oil, natural gas, and critical minerals. Its proximity to emerging Arctic shipping routes and role as a hub for military operations and Arctic surveillance further amplifies its strategic value.
In 2019, former U.S. President Donald Trump's proposal to purchase Greenland drew global attention, framing it as “essentially a large real estate deal.” When Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen dismissed it as “absurd,” Trump cancelled a state visit to Copenhagen. His remarks, including a tweet featuring a gold Trump Tower superimposed on a Greenlandic village with the caption, “I promise not to do this to Greenland!” were widely mocked.
Yet, these comments highlighted deeper U.S. strategic anxieties. Arctic ice receding has elevated Greenland into a geopolitical prize, with its Pituffik Space Base remaining key to America's ballistic missile early-warning system and space surveillance.
Trump's renewed push highlights mounting U.S. concerns over Chinese and Russian influence in the Arctic. The autonomous Greenlandic government's interest in cooperation with China, particularly in mining projects, coupled with Russia's military build-up in the region, has intensified U.S. urgency to deepen its engagement. Meanwhile, the Danish government seemed caught off guard by Trump's statements, leading Frederiksen to scramble for a positive framing of the controversy.
Furthermore, in the current Trump 2.0 era, under the banner of MAGA, he has reiterated his expansionist ambitions repeatedly within a month, targeting the acquisition of Greenland and the reclamation of the Panama Canal. His near-absolute authority in this second term adds weight to these assertions.
In a January 7th press conference—a few days before his inauguration—he did not rule out the use of military or economic pressure to achieve his objective, claiming it as vital: “People don't even know if Denmark has any legal right to it. But if they do, they should give it up... We need it for national security.” In his social media platform, he insisted:“the Free World, need safety, security, strength, and PEACE! This is a deal that must happen.”
For China, U.S. presence in Greenland threatens its Polar Silk Road initiative and dominance in critical raw materials, essential for advanced technologies. Moreover, the Arctic's warming climate could reduce transit times for Asian trade with Europe, making control over the region increasingly valuable.
Accordingly, three potential scenarios emerge.
First, a U.S. diplomatic approach offering Greenland financial incentives, development packages, and autonomy guarantees. The challenge would be convincing Greenlanders that integration with Washington would bring long-term benefits while overcoming Denmark's resistance, which is rooted in history, national pride and strategic concerns. This would restrict China's access to critical minerals and limit its polar expansion, likely pushing Beijing to deepen partnerships with other Arctic nations, particularly Russia.
Second, the U.S. could leverage economic or geopolitical pressure through increased investments and direct aid, potentially isolating Greenland from Denmark. Washington might also apply political pressure on Copenhagen, presenting Nuuk's alignment with the U.S. as critical for NATO and Arctic security at the Arctic Council under the guise of collective security, thus weakening Denmark's ability to maintain control. While this somehow mirrors China's methods of expanding influence, it risks alienating European allies and could prompt Beijing to intensify economic engagement with local authorities and mobilize diplomatic opposition, portraying Washington as a destabilizing force.
The most aggressive scenario involves the U.S. asserting de facto control over Greenland's strategic resources or military infrastructure without formal acquisition, bypassing Denmark entirely, and even threatening economic repercussions if Copenhagen resists an American diktat.
This is hardly unprecedented: the U.S. has historically justified interventionist policies under the guise of protecting regional stability. While the foundational Monroe Doctrine aimed to prevent European interference in the Americas, the Roosevelt Corollary expanded its scope, legitimizing U.S. intervention in the Western Hemisphere to uphold stability or defend its interests. This history positions U.S. pressure on Greenland not merely as a territorial ambition but as part of a comprehensive strategic approach to safeguard its sphere of influence.
However, this could trigger international backlash, particularly from the EU, which would be legally obliged to respond to any sort of hostility or sanctions against Denmark, giving the EU anti-coercion instrument therefore an unexpected importance. Yet, based on recent developments in January 2025, the European Commission's response to such threats—while it constantly criticizes China over matters that don't directly affect Europe—exposes both weakness and a lack of clear strategy.
Another issue is China. It might interpret U.S. pressure on Greenland in three ways: as part of a larger geopolitical containment strategy, an assertion of dominance that challenges Beijing's expanding global influence, and a precedent for restricting its ambitions in regions like the South China Sea. Consequently, while adhering to its non-interference principle, China might weigh the strategic implications of U.S. actions, treating them as part of a broader struggle for global primacy.
In response, China could pursue two approaches, having ruled out inaction. First, it might take assertive countermeasures, such as strengthening military and economic partnerships with Russia while fostering local resistance in Greenland through aid and investments. For Denmark—a key U.S. ally—this development is a very uncomfortable and precarious position to be in.
A more assertive position, even though less probable, warrants consideration. While China might officially frame Greenland as a Danish internal issue—aligning with its non-interference policy—it could struggle to ignore U.S. pressure on the territory. Should Beijing counter with a superior economic offer, it would spark a severe geopolitical confrontation. Denmark would likely reject such an offer to preserve Western alliances, yet Greenland's response might be more nuanced if China promised substantial infrastructure development and respect for their sovereignty.
The U.S. would perceive any Chinese attempt to work on alternative solutions with Greenland as a direct threat to its national security and Arctic dominance. Washington would use every available tool to block it, including sanctions and escalating military presence. China would face reputational risks, as such a bid could be perceived as neo-colonialism, particularly if it disregards the will of the indigenous population or undermines Danish sovereignty. Furthermore, Beijing would struggle to defend its position on sensitive issues like Tibet, Xinjiang, and Taiwan, where it monitors any movements for independence.
Nevertheless, the temptation is hard to resist: strong Chinese involvement would mark a historic shift reaching beyond Arctic geopolitics, challenging Western dominance and potentially altering the Arctic Council's power dynamics. Russia might initially welcome this development but grow wary of Beijing's expanding presence.
Regardless of the outcome, these scenarios underscore Greenland's emergence as a pivotal flashpoint in the broader U.S.-China rivalry. The contest revolves around strategic resources, shipping routes, and military positioning in the Arctic, pushing superpowers to challenge international norms in their pursuit of dominance, reshaping the region into an increasingly disputed geopolitical arena.
Trump's push for Greenland could mark his “Polar Pivot,” a counterpart to Obama's Pivot to Asia, yet focused on Arctic ambitions. For those who doubted Trump's foreign policy vision, his attempt to redefine the Roosevelt Corollary—draped in protectionism, isolationism, and nationalism—offers a clear rebuttal. If successful, it might even earn the title of the “Trump Corollary.” Far from foolish, his approach reveals a calculated geopolitical strategy lurking beneath the surface of his real estate rhetoric.
