Europe Deploys Troops to Greenland: When NATO Must Defend Itself Against Its Own Founder

An obsession that goes way back

Donald Trump didn’t just discover Greenland yesterday. As early as his first term in 2019, he had floated the idea of buying the island from Denmark, sparking widespread disbelief. At the time, many laughed it off as just another whim of the unpredictable president. But Trump never let the matter drop. Back in the White House in 2025, he made the acquisition of Greenland a “national security priority.” And this time, no one is laughing anymore. Not after Venezuela. Not after adviser Stephen Miller declared that “no one will go to war with the United States over the future of Greenland.” Not after Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt confirmed that “the use of the U.S. military is always an option.”

The justifications put forward by the Trump administration range from national security to natural resources. “We really need Greenland,” the president insisted after the failure of the January 14 negotiations. “If we don’t go there, Russia will go there, and China will go there. And there’s nothing Denmark can do about it, but we can do everything.” ” The security argument. Except that Denmark is already a member of NATO. That the United States has already had the Pituffik (formerly Thule) space base on the island since 1951. That defense agreements already allow U.S. forces to operate freely on the territory. So why this obsession with ownership? The answer may lie beneath the melting ice.

Trump says it’s for security. But since when does annexing an ally make you safer? The United States already has everything it needs in Greenland: bases, radar systems, cooperation agreements. What it doesn’t have is control over the resources. And that’s where the problem lies. Behind all the grand rhetoric about the Russian-Chinese threat lies a much more down-to-earth reality: 1.5 million metric tons of rare earth minerals. Lithium. Graphite. Uranium. Resources that the melting ice is making increasingly accessible. Trump talks about security? I hear the sound of dollars. And frankly, it disgusts me.

Arctic Resources: The Real Issue

Greenland is a geological treasure trove. According to a 2023 report by the Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland, the island possesses 25 of the 34 critical minerals identified by the European Union. It ranks eighth in the world for rare earth reserves, with 1.5 million metric tons. The Kvanefjeld and Tanbreez deposits are among the largest in the world. Lithium, graphite, neodymium—all these elements essential to the energy transition, electric vehicle batteries, wind turbines, and advanced military systems lie dormant beneath the Greenlandic ice.

China currently controls about 90% of global rare earth refining. This is a considerable strategic lever that Beijing does not hesitate to use. The Trump administration sees Greenland as an opportunity to break this dependence. Michael Waltz, a former national security adviser, put it bluntly: “It’s about critical minerals. It’s about natural resources. ” But experts are tempering this enthusiasm. The Arctic climate makes mining extremely difficult. Only 20% of the island is ice-free. Temperatures can drop to minus 40 degrees. Infrastructure is virtually nonexistent. And even if these minerals were extracted, they would have to be… sent to China for refining. The irony is cruel.

The Voice of the Inuit in the Face of the Empire

Karl Sandgreen runs the visitor center at the Ilulissat Icefjord on Greenland’s west coast. He is an Inuit man whose ancestors have lived on this land for millennia. Before the meeting in Washington, he had expressed a simple hope: “My hope is that Rubio will show some humanity in these discussions.” His fears concern the Inuit way of life. “We are completely different. We are Inuit, and we have lived here for thousands of years.” Thousands of years. Long before America even existed. Long before Trump was born. And now, this man who has never set foot on their island is deciding their future as if they were mere pawns on a chessboard.

In Nuuk, residents’ reactions range from concern to outrage. Maya Martinsen, 21, says she is “reassured to know that the Nordic countries are sending reinforcements,” since Greenland is part of Denmark and NATO. But she refuses to believe Washington’s security argument. For her, this issue isn’t about “national security” but rather “the oil and minerals we have that are still untouched.” A poll conducted last year showed that 85% of Greenlanders did not want to be part of the United States. 85%. But what weight does the will of a small people carry in the face of a superpower’s ambitions?

Close your eyes. Imagine you are Karl Sandgreen. Imagine that your family has lived on this land for 4,000 years. Imagine that your grandparents, your great-grandparents, generation after generation, have hunted seals, fished for halibut, and survived the harshest winters on the planet. And then one day, a man in a suit on the other side of the world decides that your land belongs to him. Because he wants it. Because he needs it. Because he’s stronger. What do you call that again? Oh, right. Colonialism. We thought it was over. We were wrong.

Independence on the horizon—but at what cost?

Greenland has long aspired to independence. The 2009 Self-Government Act grants it the right to secede from Denmark following a referendum and approval by the Danish parliament. Greenlandic Prime Minister Jens-Frederik Nielsen declared in February 2024 that independence was his government’s goal. But this dream of independence does not mean becoming American. This is the misunderstanding—whether intentional or not—that the Trump administration is perpetuating. The Naleraq Party, which favors direct dialogue with Washington without going through Copenhagen, certainly doubled its share of the vote in the last election, winning 25 percent of the vote. But its leader, Pele Broberg, does not advocate for U.S. annexation: he wants Greenland to negotiate on equal terms, as a sovereign nation.

Prime Minister Nielsen was keen to calm the situation after the failed negotiations: “We are not in a situation where we think there could be a takeover of the country overnight, and that is why we insist that we want good cooperation. ” Good cooperation. Not annexation. Not a takeover. A relationship between equal partners. But when your potential “partner” talks about “conquering” you and refuses to rule out the military option, can we really call that cooperation? Greenlandic filmmaker Inuk Silis Høegh summed up the sentiment of many: discussions about a U.S. takeover represent “a total lack of respect.”

A Renewed Sense of Unity in the Face of Adversity

If this crisis has had at least one positive effect, it is that of rousing a Europe that has been slumbering for too long under the American umbrella. A joint letter signed by the leaders of Denmark, France, Germany, Spain, the United Kingdom, Italy, and Poland affirmed that only Greenland and Denmark can decide the territory’s future. President Emmanuel Macron stated that “France and Europeans must continue to be present wherever their interests are threatened, without escalation but without compromising on respect for territorial sovereignty.” Spanish Foreign Minister José Manuel Albares reiterated that “sovereignty and territorial integrity are fundamental principles of international law.”

European Commissioner Dan Jørgensen expressed his support for Denmark and Greenland, emphasizing that the sovereignty of the Arctic territory “is non-negotiable.” Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney joined the chorus of solidarity, announcing a visit by Governor General Mary Simon—who is of Inuit descent—to Greenland in early February. “The future of Greenland and Denmark is decided solely by the people of Denmark,” he stated. Even NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte, usually cautious, had to acknowledge the importance of Arctic security, while avoiding direct criticism of Trump. A balancing act that is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.

I’d like to rejoice in this European unity. I really would. Seeing France, Germany, the United Kingdom, and the others speak with one voice is beautiful. It’s what we’ve been calling for for decades. But at what cost? It took an ally turning into a threat for Europe to wake up. It took the unthinkable becoming thinkable. And even now, this unity remains fragile. Statements, letters, symbolic troop deployments… But would we really be prepared to confront the United States militarily? The question sends a chill down the spine. And the answer, I fear, is no.

The Russian and Chinese Response: The Trap of the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

The ultimate irony of this crisis is that American threats could actually create the very situation that Trump claims he wants to avoid. The Russian Embassy in Belgium responded with a mix of mockery and warning, calling the Russian-Chinese threats against Greenland “fictitious.” “The instigators of these bellicose plans are invoking mythical challenges that they themselves create,” the embassy stated. Beijing, for its part, accused Washington of using alleged Chinese threats as a “pretext” for its own actions. Analysts warn that Russia and China could strengthen their cooperation in the Arctic, potentially organizing joint exercises as early as 2026.

The Trump administration’s behavior offers Moscow and Beijing a golden opportunity. Every threat against a NATO ally weakens the alliance’s credibility. Every statement about forced acquisition reinforces the Russian narrative of Western hypocrisy. Vladimir Putin, who invaded Ukraine and faces Western sanctions, can now point the finger at a U.S. president who threatens to invade an allied territory. The difference? One is punished, the other is not. It’s an unexpected gift for Kremlin propaganda. And while NATO is tearing itself apart over Greenland, the war in Ukraine continues. Nearly four years of conflict. Hundreds of thousands of deaths. And an ally that speaks of “conquest” rather than collective defense.

Article 5 Faces Its Biggest Test

Guntram Wolff, a researcher at the Brussels-based think tank Bruegel, posed the question that haunts all European strategists: “If the U.S. president says he can only defend what he owns, what he’s essentially saying is that he can’t defend Europe under any circumstances because he doesn’t own Europe, right? ” The logic is relentless. If Trump believes he needs to own a territory to defend it, then Article 5 no longer makes any sense. The security guarantee that has protected Europe for decades rests on the U.S. promise to defend territories it does not own. That promise has just been called into question in the most brutal way possible.

Professor John Mearsheimer of the University of Chicago raised a worst-case scenario: “One could argue that if you combine what’s happening in Ukraine with a possible invasion of Greenland, you could make the case that this would be a deadly one-two punch that would fundamentally ruin the alliance. ” NATO was built on a simple principle: solidarity in the face of external aggression. It has no mechanism for dealing with internal aggression. No procedure for expelling a member. No planned response for when the wolf is already in the sheepfold. And today, the wolf is the biggest and strongest of the herd.

Want to know what keeps me up at night? It’s the question no one dares to ask out loud. If Trump really sent troops to Greenland tomorrow morning, what would we do? What would France do? Germany? The United Kingdom? Would we go to war against the United States to defend 57,000 Greenlanders? The honest answer is probably no. And Trump knows it. That’s why he can get away with these threats. Because he knows that deep down, despite all our lofty declarations, we aren’t willing to die for Greenland. And that truth is terrifying.

Denmark Faces an Impossible Choice

The Danish Royal Decree of 1952 is unambiguous. Danish military units have “the duty to defend Danish territory if it comes under armed attack, including by taking immediate defensive measures if necessary,” confirmed Tobias Roed Jensen, spokesperson for the Danish Defense Command. In short: if U.S. forces were to land in Greenland without authorization, Danish soldiers would have a legal obligation to retaliate. To fire on Americans. At NATO allies. Defense Minister Poulsen described this scenario as “entirely hypothetical,” adding that he “considers it unlikely that one NATO country would attack another NATO country.” But unlikely is not impossible. And impossible, as we’ve seen in Venezuela, isn’t really impossible anymore.

Denmark has announced a $6.5 billion Arctic defense plan. Danish F-35s can now operate over Greenland with the support of the Multinational Tanker Fleet. But all of this pales in comparison to American firepower. The disparity is overwhelming: 13,100 active-duty soldiers for Denmark, 1.3 million for the United States. Researcher Ulrik Pram Gad of the Danish Institute for International Studies sums up the issue: “The deployment of Danish and European forces shows that we are helping to address the Americans’ stated concerns, and it also raises the political cost of an invasion for Trump.” The political cost. Because the military cost, for its part, would be zero. A week—perhaps less—and it would be over.

The Diplomatic Path: A Sliver of Hope

Despite the failure of the January 14 negotiations, a glimmer of hope remains. Both sides have agreed to establish a “high-level working group” to try to find a way forward. On January 20, the defense ministers of Denmark and Greenland are scheduled to meet with NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte in Brussels. A bipartisan delegation from the U.S. Congress, led by Democratic Senator Chris Coons, is on a two-day visit to Copenhagen to “express solidarity” with the Danish government. Some U.S. lawmakers, both Republicans and Democrats, have proposed legislation to prohibit the use of federal funds to invade a NATO member state.

A CNN poll released on January 15 reveals that 75% of Americans oppose U.S. efforts to take over Greenland. Public opinion, for now, is not on Trump’s side on this issue. Professor Rasmus Brun Pedersen of Aarhus University hopes that NATO’s military buildup in the region will convince the U.S. administration. “We’ll see a significant increase in NATO forces in the region, and hopefully this will be something we can say to the United States: ‘Well, you had security concerns—look, we’ve responded.’ ” Hope springs eternal. But faced with a president who has declared that he feels limited only by “his own morality” and “his own mind,” and who claims he has no need for “international law,” that hope seems very fragile.

75% of Americans are against it. Lawmakers from both parties are proposing legislation to prevent the invasion. Diplomacy continues despite everything. I’d like to believe in it. I really would. But I’ve seen too many red lines crossed in recent years to delude myself. Trump said he wanted Greenland. He said he’d get it “one way or another.” And so far, everything he’s said he’d do, he’s done. Venezuela is the bloody proof of that. So yes, diplomacy continues. But somewhere deep inside, I have this knot that won’t come undone. This nagging certainty that the worst isn’t behind us. That it’s ahead of us.

The Lessons of Munich: When History Repeats Itself

Some analysts draw a disturbing parallel with the 1938 Munich Agreement. At the time, Great Britain and France sacrificed Czechoslovakia’s sovereignty to appease Nazi Germany, excluding Prague from negotiations over its own future. Appeasing aggression, however politically convenient it may seem at the time, only invites further aggression. Today’s Europe faces a similar choice: to accept the violation of one of its members’ sovereignty in the name of political realism, or to defend the principles that have underpinned the international order since 1945. The first path leads to a world where might makes right. The second leads to a confrontation whose outcome no one can predict.

Danish Member of the European Parliament Anders Vistisen summed up the stakes: “This is happening off the coasts of Canada—a third NATO ally—and Iceland, a fourth NATO ally—and in reality, if we take the treaty seriously, Canadian and Icelandic troops would have to defend Nuuk if there were a hostile invasion. The very fact that we’re having this discussion jeopardizes the most important security framework established in our lifetime.” The very fact that we’re having this discussion. Perhaps that’s what’s most terrifying. That we’ve reached this point. That these words are being spoken. That these scenarios are being considered. The unthinkable has become thinkable. And once that line has been crossed, there’s no guarantee it can ever be closed again.

A 75-Year Legacy in the Balance

On April 4, 1949, twelve nations signed the North Atlantic Treaty in Washington. Among them were the United States and Denmark. The alliance they founded was meant to ensure that Europe would never again experience the horrors of World War II. For 75 years, that promise was kept. The Cold War ended without a nuclear apocalypse. The Berlin Wall fell. Europe was reunified. And throughout this period, the American umbrella protected the continent. Today, that same umbrella threatens to turn into a club. The protector has become the aggressor. The ally into a potential enemy. How will we tell this story to our children? How will we explain that one day, European soldiers had to be deployed to protect an allied territory against… the United States of America?

Karl Sandgreen continues to run his visitor center in Ilulissat. The glaciers continue to melt. The polar bears continue to hunt. Inuit children continue to go to school. Life goes on, as it always does, even when the world is shaking to its foundations. But something has changed, irrevocably. Trust has been shattered. A certainty has crumbled—the belief that the rules of the international game, however imperfect, protected the small from the powerful; that signed treaties held value; that a promise made was binding. Greenland, with its 57,000 inhabitants and 836,000 square kilometers of ice and rock, has unwittingly become the symbol of this rupture. It is the place where we will learn whether the postwar order can survive the very force that founded it.

As I finish this article, I don’t know how to feel. Anger, certainly. Fear, too. Sadness, above all. Sadness for the people of Greenland, whose fate is being decided in distant capitals. Sadness for this alliance that was once great and is now tearing apart. Sadness for this world we thought we had built, stone by stone, treaty by treaty, after the horrors of the 20th century. A world where law would take precedence over force. Where borders would be respected. Where an ally would remain an ally. That world—I’m no longer sure it still exists. Perhaps I’m not old enough to remember that it never really existed. Or perhaps I’m old enough to have believed, naively, that it could last. Forty European soldiers on the ice of Greenland. That is all that stands between the old order and the new chaos. Forty soldiers. And the hope—as fragile as melting ice—that it is not too late.

I am not a journalist, but a columnist. I am an analyst, an observer of the geopolitical dynamics and upheavals that shape our world. My job is to dissect political strategies, understand shifts in power, and anticipate the turns our leaders are taking. I do not claim to possess the cold objectivity of traditional journalism. I strive for clarity, sincere analysis, and a deep understanding of the issues that concern us all.

This text respects the fundamental distinction between verified facts and interpretive commentary. The factual information presented in this article comes from official and verifiable sources, including Danish government press releases, official statements by European and American political leaders, reports from recognized international news agencies such as Reuters, the Associated Press, and Agence France-Presse, as well as analyses from specialized think tanks such as CSIS and Bruegel.

The analyses and interpretations presented here constitute a critical synthesis based on the available information. My role is to interpret these facts, contextualize them, and make sense of them. Any subsequent developments could alter the perspectives presented here.