It would be reasonable to assume that the central focus of Donald Trump’s Greenland gambit would be how the Greenlandic people respond to America’s sharpened strategic interest. Instead, discourse has largely focused on Danish interests and the implications of Trump’s foreign policy approach for transatlantic relations, if not for the feelings of European leaders.

Where, then, is Greenland’s agency? In 2024, the Naalakkersuisut (Greenlandic government) released a foundational policy paper, Greenland in the World – Nothing About Us, Without Us. The document maps out Nuuk’s strategic agenda to 2033, articulating a clear vision for Greenland in an increasingly complex, crowded and competitive Arctic.

The framing of Nuuk’s defence and security policy document is important: ‘All relations are based on the premise that Greenland and the Greenlandic people constitute an independent people and nation.’ It would appear that Nuuk’s message is having trouble cutting through.

Nothing About Us, Without Us articulates how Nuuk seeks to navigate a shifting global security environment. Greenland’s path to full independence (as set down by the 2009 Act on Greenland Self Government) is at the heart of the document. Developing a self-sustaining economy requires establishing direct trade links with North America and Asia, as well as diversifying its extant economic ties with Denmark.

While the document underscores that autonomy is a priority, it also contains a pragmatic roadmap for relations with Washington. Indeed, the US-Greenland relationship features prominently in the document and is, in many respects, framed as critical to Nuuk’s self-determination.

Nuuk’s foreign policy document describes the US as ‘one of Greenland’s closest allies’. It highlights the Greenlandic support for US basing and military activity over the past 80 years, and it states, in no uncertain terms, that Washington is ‘effectively the defender of Greenland in the event of a military conflict’.

Washington’s strategic interest in Greenland has deep historical roots. The Arctic territory’s centrality in the Cold War to fending off the Soviet ‘menace’ is well known in defence and security communities. But a similar strategic utility exists today. The Russians would still need to send nuclear missiles over Greenland to hit an American city, should they wish to do so. The US interest in fortifying Greenland is thus pragmatic, given its broader significance for North American security.

Despite the long history of US relations with, and footprint on, Greenland, Trump’s recent rhetoric sent shockwaves through the global community. Tensions were heightened, with European leaders clutching their pearls at Trump’s early refusal to take military action off the table when it came to ‘getting’ Greenland. Yet the theatrics of this overlooked a basic reality: most powerful nations refuse to confirm or deny their strategic intentions, let alone publicly outline ahead of time their military contingencies.

The US leader initially doubled down on his Greenland quest and appeared to be washing his hands of the established liberal rules-based order. Social media facilitated diplomatic tit-for-tats between Europe and America, spanning tariff threats to harsh words. NATO’s Secretary General, Mark Rutte, later managed to temper Trump’s stance, although two wildly different impressions of their meeting have emerged. Trump claimed that he and Rutte have ‘formed the framework of a future deal with respect to Greenland’ – a development Greenland (and Denmark) would probably be very interested to hear about. NATO officials have since clarified that no formal agreement on sovereignty or control has been reached.

Setting aside the fact that NATO has no power to ‘broker’ any deal or pathway on the issue of Greenland, the whole saga is a master class in Trump’s Art of the Deal: if you have power, always demand above and beyond what you desire or need. You’ll land with more than you started with. If nothing else, Europe has ‘awoken’ and committed to send more capabilities north to the Arctic and invest in footing much more of the transatlantic bill. It remains to be seen if this is enough. Private jets continue to arrive in Nuuk, with American ‘tech bros’ and private capital fund managers keeping US economic interests very much alive there.

The US has reprioritised the value placed upon, and the nature of engagement with, partners and allies. We are in an era of transactional US foreign policy, and Greenland is a pivotal ‘case study’ of US statecraft under Trump 2.0. But this is not solely a story about US strategy or Washington’s enduring interest in Greenland. The rhetoric on the other side of the ledger matters.

Springing to the defence of Denmark, Europe has largely ignored Greenland’s long-standing quest for independence from Denmark. It has become a mere footnote in this contemporary Arctic flashpoint. European leaders continue to pledge support for Greenland but almost always frame this as recognition of the ‘sanctity’ of ‘Danish sovereignty’. While this is technically correct, it glosses over a serious point of tension in the Denmark-Greenland relationship.

Trump’s Greenland interest is essentially facilitating an airing of dirty Danish laundry, because Greenland might no longer be a Danish colony by name, but it is by nature. Copenhagen still controls the purse-strings and decides matters for Greenland in the realms of foreign affairs and defence. Even the 2009 Act, ostensibly laying a pathway for Greenland’s independence through increased autonomy from Denmark, contains fine print that limits its practical effect. The result of any Greenlandic referendum for independence needs to be ‘approved’ by the Danish parliament. Given that Greenland comprises 95 per cent of the total landmass of the Kingdom of Denmark, and contains considerable territorial riches, it is inconceivable that Copenhagen would ever voluntarily cut it loose.

The Danish rejection of Trump’s ambition to ‘control’ Greenland reveals a double standard – particularly given the economic support (or coercive reparations, depending on your politics) that Copenhagen injects into Greenland. Any foreign investments inked by Nuuk to diversify its economy away from the Danes remain subject to complex rules and control mechanisms crafted by Copenhagen. For example, while Copenhagen’s block grant to Nuuk is not automatically reduced when Greenland accepts foreign investment, Denmark does reduce it if Nuuk’s revenues from mineral resource extraction exceed a certain threshold, highlighting the economic trade-offs it faces in pursuing greater autonomy.

Strategic international partnerships therefore need to be robust, lasting enablers of a sustainable economic future for Nuuk. To attract foreign investment, the market also needs to be secure – politically stable and predictable to assuage investors and the commercial bottom line – certainly not reflective of Greenland’s current market conditions.

Trump’s Greenland grab also underscores a broader problem in Europe, in terms of how it conjures opposition to Washington in contemporary strategic affairs. What real cards does Brussels hold? Europe could strike out in opposition to US designs on Greenland, but beyond rhetoric and coordinated public statements dressing down such intent, what can it really do?

Constrained by over-reliance on American power, much of the European community is deeply integrated with – or clients of – the US military industrial complex. Denmark’s own military is comprised of US kit, with new US air defence systems ordered in the same week that Trump spoke of the prime Greenlandic real estate deal he had in mind.

Even in the energy sphere, Europe has little leverage when it comes to shaping American actions. To mitigate its reliance on Russian gas, Brussels pivoted to the US and is now reliant on Washington for 57 per cent of its liquefied natural gas demand. By 2030, the figure is projected to rise to 75 to 80 per cent.

All the while, Greenlandic independence, and her people’s enduring quest for sovereignty, remains high on the wish list for Nuuk. The most recent polling indicates that the majority of Greenlanders would vote for independence if a referendum was held. However, this result was not promoted widely. Instead, the second question asked in the same polling exercise gained international attention.

This poll was largely framed as the majority of Greenlanders voting ‘no’ to joining the US. The actual question asked reveals an important nuance: Do you want Greenland to leave the Danish Realm and become part of the US? This ‘either, or’ framing – US or Denmark – is not indicative of the national sentiment in support of independence from Denmark.

Trump’s Greenland interest has a certain corollary effect on Nuuk’s own independence effort. Greenland’s history under Denmark is one of exploitation and paternalism, from her formal colonisation in the 18th century, to the evolution from Home Rule in 1979, right out to Greenland’s ‘enhanced’ autonomy awarded in 2009, which remains in effect.

While the 2009 Act on Greenland Self Government did mark a significant step forward, caveats largely restrain Nuuk’s agility. Efforts to strengthen its capacity to operate independently are curtailed by the Act’s baked-in disincentives: any further transferred sectors – such as energy policy – also require Greenland to assume complete financial responsibility. The very structure of Greenlandic autonomy, as designed by Denmark, perpetuates dependencies.

This is not a case of nefarious Danish intent; rather, it is one of strategic and pragmatic consideration. Without Greenland, Denmark would also lose its Arctic footprint and, indeed, its political identity. The Faroe Islands (the other overseas territory of the Danish Realm) are located about 450 kilometres south of the Arctic Circle. As such, Denmark would have no territory above the Arctic Circle – an identifier of a state’s ‘Arctic-ness’ and induction into the Arctic ‘club’. Greenland’s riches further strengthen Denmark’s attachment issues. Hydrocarbon and critical minerals aside, the exclusive economic zone of Greenland facilitates a fishing industry that constitutes 90 per cent of the territory’s exports, and a major part of the economic relationship with Denmark.

Resources aren’t the whole story here. Polar tourism and global shipping offer promising future financial avenues for Greenland. The island is well positioned to deliver on demand for service industry professionals and facilities linked to the burgeoning Arctic tourism sector. Geographically positioned at one end of the Arctic Corridor, and with new global transportation routes opening up, the island is in a strong position to offer trans-shipment hub and port facility services to global firms.

Trump’s interest in Greenland is not altogether different to Denmark’s strategic assessment of the island. Yet the American focus on ‘opening up’ Greenland for business could end up accelerating Greenland’s path to independence by fostering economic self-sufficiency.

Looking ahead, there appear to be four scenarios for Greenland, in terms of the broader US quest to secure it.

The first scenario sees US support for Greenlandic independence resulting in hastened pace for a referendum. Denmark would either approve or deny the results. Should she deny, citing say ‘foreign influence’, then we could expect Washington to occupy Greenland to protect it as per its efforts in the Second World War. Such an outcome is improbable, as the costs of occupation would likely outweigh any strategic advantages. Alternatively, Denmark could approve the results of an independence vote. Approval would then position Greenland to enter a Compact of Free Association (COFA) agreement with the US. A COFA would, in theory, grant Greenland sovereignty, independence, and agency. Washington essentially takes the position Denmark holds in terms of fiscal underwriting for social and economic needs, while maintaining its long-standing military-security provisions. Significantly, Greenland can exit the agreement at its own prerogative. But this scenario appears to be quite likely.

Perhaps the US will not wait for Greenland to secure independence, which furnishes another scenario. Here, the US and Europe essentially decouple over Washington’s annexation of Greenland. Tariff wars proliferate and what is left of the rules-based order is dismantled, with the deterrence capacity of bodies like NATO diminished beyond repair. It is of utmost importance for Brussels, and hopefully for Washington, to avoid such a scenario. It is also highly unlikely to happen, not least because Brussels would likely sacrifice Denmark’s interests for the security interests of the broader European community.

A third scenario would see the US scale back its Greenland rhetoric and recalibrate its strategy of ‘Hemispheric Defense’. The US footprint at Pituffik Space Base would remain stable, and the status quo of the Greenland-Denmark bilateral relationship would endure. Given the unlikely circumstance of ‘Hemispheric Defense’ ceasing to be the hallmark of US posture under Trump, however, this scenario is again unlikely.

The fourth scenario for Greenland is emerging as a crowd favourite. Here, concessions are made; European powers manage to meet Washington halfway and deliver on upping their national investment and capabilities in the Arctic theatre. As a result, a stronger transatlantic footprint in Greenland is established. Yet this scenario, again, pushes aside the issue of Greenlandic independence, with great power contestation and regional security interests once again taking priority.

The US interest in ‘buying’, ‘owning’ or ‘taking’ Greenland is well over a century old, dating back to at least the 1867 purchase of Alaska. But this interest, revived by Trump, meets Greenland’s centuries-long drive for self-rule, exposing the uneasy balance between great-power design, Denmark’s lingering authority and the island’s own political ambitions.