"What is at stake is not Greenland itself. It is the precedent its treatment sets"

 

In the recent Atlantic interview, Donald Trump reiterated that the United States “absolutely needs Greenland,” effectively renewing his push for American control or influence over the Danish territory, a stance drawing sharp criticism from Denmark and Greenland’s leaders, and which many had hoped had gone away. As Thucydides—more accustomed to the warm waters of the Mediterranean than to the icebergs of the Greenland Sea—once observed, “The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” 

Trump, only a few days earlier, had reasserted his desire to take Greenland, stating that the United States “has to have” it for national security reasons, though it is no secret to say he also likes its potential for recoverable rare earths.

Denmark’s prime minister, Mette Frederiksen of the Social Democrats, was pugnacious in her New Year’s speech. “Wanting to take over another country, other people. As if it were something you could buy and own. It doesn’t belong anywhere,” she said, adding ominously: “Never before have we increased our military strength so significantly.

So quickly.” Since the US action in Venezuela, Katie Miller, the wife of Trump deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller, posted a provocative image on X showing a map of Greenland colored with the US flag and captioned it simply: ‘SOON.’ What baffles Danes most is the sense of pleasure that seems to be taken by Americans in all this.

As part of this renewed and worrying push, Trump has appointed Louisiana governor Jeff Landry as special envoy. Landry insists the United States is not seeking to “conquer” Greenland but merely to engage with Greenlanders.

Yet he publicly posted the following publicly to Trump: “It’s an honor [sic] to serve you in this volunteer position to make Greenland part of the US.” French president Emmanuel Macron offered a characteristically Gallic shrug: “Greenland belongs to its people. Denmark stands as its guarantor.”

Landry’s professional background is overwhelmingly domestic. He has served as a hardline conservative governor since 2024, previously as Louisiana’s attorney general, and before that as a combative member of Congress. He has no evident experience in foreign policy, Arctic security, or diplomatic negotiation with NATO allies.

For critics, this makes his selection seem bizarre. Supporters point instead to his loyalty to the president. The appointment fits a broader pattern in which political allegiance is valued over diplomatic competence. Trump’s daughter Tiffany’s businessman father-in-law has been described as a senior adviser for Africa. A son-in-law and a real-estate associate have both handled Russia.

Meanwhile, the US consulate in Nuuk is reportedly seeking unpaid interns to manage its communications channels, with the listing stating that the role involves communicating “US foreign policy priorities to a Greenlandic audience.” The symbolism is hard to miss.

Denmark has rejected the premise of Landry’s appointment outright and has indicated it will summon the US ambassador to register its objections. Do not expect a celebratory shot of Aalborg Akvavit at the meeting. Danish officials see the move as further erosion of respect for sovereignty, and it is unlikely to unfold in a convivial spirit.

Greenland’s government has also firmly rejected talk of annexation. Prime Minister Jens-Frederik Nielsen has stressed that decisions about Greenland are made in Greenland, reflecting its autonomy within the Kingdom of Denmark. Leaders in Nuuk and Copenhagen have spoken with one voice in dismissing any suggestion that Greenland’s status is somehow up for negotiation. Rarely have Greenland and Denmark appeared so closely aligned.

Yes, Greenland has long had a strong but cautious independence movement. For many Greenlanders, full sovereignty remains a long-term goal rather than an immediate demand. What has changed is not the debate itself, but the way it is now being conducted.

Recent events in Venezuela show just how fast political expectations can fall apart. Greenland is not Venezuela. Its institutions are stronger, and its alliances are stable. The point is not that the situations are the same, but that change can happen fast.

When powerful countries suggest that long-standing rules are open to change, smaller ones are forced to adjust faster than they would like. Washington’s blunt approach has had an unexpected result. It has pushed Nuuk and Copenhagen closer together, not further apart.

European leaders have been broadly supportive of Denmark’s position. Echoing a principle articulated centuries ago by Emer de Vattel—that small states are no less sovereign than great powers—senior EU figures, including Spain’s prime minister, vocal about Venezuela, and European Commission leadership, less so, have publicly defended Danish sovereignty, and criticized Washington’s bullish approach.

This has not, however, halted defense cooperation. The US State Department has just approved a potential sale of advanced air-to-air missiles to Denmark. These are valued at up to $951 million.

On the natural minerals front, the Trump administration insists its stance on Greenland reflects security concerns rather than resource ambition—a claim Danish and Greenlandic leaders strongly contest. Even if legitimate security concerns do exist, as surely, they might, the manner in which Washington has chosen to pursue them has generated suspicion rather than reassurance.

The larger question is how all this affects NATO in 2026. Not in formal treaty terms, but in trust upon which alliances depend. A cynic might see this as an opportunity for the US to weaken its involvement in an organization that some, including Elon Musk, have already suggested Washington should leave. Even without annexation, Greenland is likely to see an expanded US military presence.

The effects reach beyond Denmark. Russia is unlikely to confront NATO directly over Greenland, but it may use the dispute to portray the US as acting in an imperial manner, as it has already done in Venezuela. The situation could also be used to justify further military build-up along Russia’s Arctic coast—another example of pressure that falls short of triggering NATO’s collective defense clause.

China, meanwhile, may benefit by positioning itself as a champion of sovereignty and restraint, quietly re-engaging in Arctic scientific and economic discussions even if major investments remain out of reach. Beijing does not need bases in Greenland. Like Russia, it may simply welcome NATO disunity. Or, in China’s case, European goodwill.

The Arctic Council is likely to remain limited by Russia’s isolation and by Western countries moving security discussions to other forums. Military cooperation will increasingly happen through NATO or bilateral agreements, while environmental and Indigenous issues risk losing attention despite recent progress.

What is at stake is not Greenland itself. It is the precedent its treatment sets. Venezuela showed how quickly assumptions about sovereignty can erode once powerful states decide the rules are flexible. When that logic is applied elsewhere, pressure replaces principle and trust surrenders to suspicion. Greenland may remain Danish, autonomous, and unannexed, but the damage to the assumptions that once made such outcomes secure may be much, much harder to contain. “Stop the threats,” said Danish prime minister Mette Frederiksen.

CounterPunch, Peter Bach lives in London.