Donald Trump, US President-elect, likes to strike a deal, and property deals don’t come much bigger than Greenland, the world’s largest island, almost equidistant to Washington and Moscow, and the shortest polar route between the two capitals. It is a huge geopolitical chess piece, despite a population just short of 60,000 souls.

Greenland is a self-governing territory, subject to Denmark, where one fifth of Greenlanders reside. That deep relationship with Denmark can be traced back to the 13^th century, when Norse colonists, who also spread to what are now the Faroes – another Danish possession – as well as Iceland and Canada, submitted to their Norwegian overlords. Norway united with Denmark in 1537 and, in the late 18^th century, amid the expansion of western empires, Denmark declared Greenland its colony, a fact confirmed by the 1814 Treaty of Kiel.

Bigger players have long had an eye on Greenland’s vast resources. An aspiring Britain, whose crowns were united under James I and VI, almost came to blows with Denmark in the early 17^th century, despite the fact that the Danish king, Christian IV, was James’s father-in-law. The island’s abundant fisheries proved a recurring thorn in the side of Stuart-Oldenburg familial relations, with James arguing that it was a ‘legitimately acquired possession of our English crown’.

It is the US, however, militarily and economically powerful, and geographically proximate, that became inquisitive and acquisitive in the 19^th century. In the 1870s, Charles Frances Hall navigated uncharted territory in Greenland’s north-west, discovering much about the indigenous Inuit people, in his Polaris expedition. This was followed at the end of the 19^th century and the beginning of the 20^th by Robert Peary’s pioneering ventures further north. Numerous attempts, of greater and lesser seriousness, were made to purchase the territory for the US.

Given the US’s propensity to purchase extensive territories from others – think of Manhattan, Alaska, and Louisiana – it should come as no surprise that the US has had its eyes on Greenland, the purchase of which from Denmark for whatever sum – $1 trillion has been mooted – would make the US the second largest country on earth after Russia. And, more importantly, it would offer strategic advantage in the North Atlantic and the Arctic, as well as access to the largest deposits of rare earth minerals outside China, and huge offshore oil and gas fields. What’s not to like from a Trumpian perspective?

The problem is Denmark, fellow NATO member, as well as EU country, which has been explicit in its opposition to such a deal, though there is precedent: in 1917, prompted by the Monroe Doctrine, Denmark sold the Danish West Indies – what is now the US Virgin Islands – which became an unincorporated territory of the United States.

There is a precedent, too, in US involvement – or interference  – in Greenland, militarily, scientifically and economically. In 1931, Denmark came into dispute with Norway – who called Greenland ‘Erik the Red’s Land’ – over possession of the island. The Permanent Court of Justice ruled in Denmark’s favour, citing the Treaty of Kiel. The German invasion of Denmark, which took place in April 1940, complicated matters. The US, then still neutral, sent members of the Coast Guard in the guise of ‘volunteers’ to secure the island, applying the Monroe Doctrine to European colonies in the North Atlantic. Once the US declared war on Germany and Japan at the end of 1941, it proceeded to occupy Greenland. Immediately after the war, with Denmark liberated, it offered $1.6 billion for its possession, which was turned down.

The Cold War sustained US interest in Greenland, too close to its mainland to ignore, and central to its North Atlantic strategy in the age of NATO. During Operation Blue Jay in 1953 it built the strategically crucial Thule airbase, and by the end of the century Greenland was central to the operation of NORAD, the North American Air Defense Command, an aerospace collaboration between the US and Canada. With the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the end of the Cold War, eyes averted from the prize, much to the chagrin of Greenlanders themselves, who had been the beneficiaries of US investment and attention.

In a changing, more precarious, more contested world, Washington’s focus has returned. As the political commentator Rasmus Nielsen pointed out: ‘The US is really waking up to Arctic reality – partly because of Russia, partly because of China.’ Nielsen was speaking soon after the US Second Fleet, active in the North Atlantic, had been reestablished in 2018, partly to secure Greenland’s 27,000 miles of coastline (some the site of precious undersea cables) from interference from Russia. In December 2019, during Trump’s first presidency, a US Consulate was requested, meeting with the consent of Denmark.

China is the more potent rival, though, having declared itself a ‘near-Arctic state’ in 2018. It is now the biggest investor in Greenland, accounting for around 12 per cent of its rapidly growing GDP. The state-owned company Shenghe Resources has access to one eighth of Greenland’s considerable mineral resources. Harking back to the geopolitical disputes of the 17^th century, China is a huge market for Greenland’s abundant fish stocks.

Such investment – and Greenland’s per capita GDP is now greater than that of the UK – has instilled a new bout of confidence among Greenlanders. Independence from Denmark was declared a goal as far back as 2004, when the potential riches to be accrued from Greenland’s uranium, rare earth minerals and oil and gas became apparent. As the historian Peter Frankopan suggests, ‘the coming years will be a bonanza for Greenland.’ The current prime minister, Múte B. Egede, has suggested that the path to independence may be accelerated by the attentions of Trump. Certainly, Denmark has little power over US interests in Greenland.

Add Russia and China into the mix and Denmark is, in the opinion of Gudmundur Alfredsson of the University of Greenland, ‘just one more competitor’ in a very asymmetrical geopolitical contest, another example of the strategic inadequacies of EU nations, made complacent by a peace dividend now defunct, that may prove ever more costly.