Trump’s Greenland Takeover: A Misadventure in the Making

Trump’s Greenland Takeover: A Price Too High to Pay

The world watches as U.S. President Donald Trump continues to double down on a provocative idea he first floated in 2019: taking over Greenland.

This autonomous territory of Denmark has become an unlikely fixation for Trump, who has oscillated between suggesting a purchase and refusing to rule out military force to secure it. The proposal has resurfaced with renewed vigour in his second term, backed by Vice President JD Vance’s recent visit to the island’s Pituffik Space Base on March 28. What began as a seemingly whimsical notion has morphed into a serious policy push, igniting fierce opposition from Greenlanders, Denmark, and much of the international community.

Trump’s greenland takeover obsession stems from its undeniable strategic value. Positioned in the Arctic, the island sits astride vital shipping lanes like the Northwest Passage, which are opening up as ice melts, and overlooks the North Atlantic, a key theatre for countering Russian and Chinese ambitions.

Trump’s Greenland Takeover: A Price Too High to Pay

The world watches as U.S. President Donald Trump continues to double down on a provocative idea he first floated in 2019: taking over Greenland.

This autonomous territory of Denmark has become an unlikely fixation for Trump, who has oscillated between suggesting a purchase and refusing to rule out military force to secure it. The proposal has resurfaced with renewed vigour in his second term, backed by Vice President JD Vance’s recent visit to the island’s Pituffik Space Base on March 28. What began as a seemingly whimsical notion has morphed into a serious policy push, igniting fierce opposition from Greenlanders, Denmark, and much of the international community.

Trump’s greenland takeover obsession stems from its undeniable strategic value. Positioned in the Arctic, the island sits astride vital shipping lanes like the Northwest Passage, which are opening up as ice melts, and overlooks the North Atlantic, a key theatre for countering Russian and Chinese ambitions.

Greenland also boasts untapped reserves of rare earth minerals—essential for tech and renewable energy—along with uranium and potential oil deposits. For Trump, controlling Greenland would bolster U.S. national security, secure critical resources, and project American dominance in a region where rivals are gaining ground. His rhetoric, including claims that “we have to have it” for global safety, reflects a belief that owning Greenland could cement the U.S. as an Arctic superpower.

The Mess of Trump’s Greenland Takeover Bid

Yet, Trump’s Greenland takeover campaign has stumbled badly. Second Lady Usha Vance’s planned trip to Greenland, initially billed as a goodwill visit to a dogsled race, was scaled back to a brief stop at Pituffik after fierce backlash from Greenlandic leaders, who called it “aggressive.” Protests erupted in Nuuk, with hundreds waving flags and chanting “Yankee, go home!”—a clear rejection of U.S. overtures. Trump has since insisted on March 27 that the U.S. will “go as far as we have to” to claim Greenland, while Vance, fresh from his base tour, argued on March 28 that Denmark has “underinvested” in the island’s security. These statements have only inflamed tensions, turning a diplomatic outreach into a public relations flop.

The financial reality of Trump’s Greenland takeover plan is daunting. Acquiring Greenland—whether through a hypothetical purchase (Denmark spends $1 billion annually to subsidise it) or coercion—would be just the start. Developing its sparse infrastructure, from roads to ports, would require billions more, especially given its harsh climate and remote location. Trump’s promises of jobs and prosperity for Greenlanders sound appealing, but fulfilling them would strain U.S. resources. Analysts estimate initial costs could range from $12 billion to $77 billion, with ongoing investments dwarfing those figures. For a nation already grappling with domestic priorities, this gamble risks becoming a fiscal black hole.

Greenlanders themselves are overwhelmingly opposed. A January 2025 poll by Berlingske and Sermitsiaq found 85% reject joining the U.S., with only 6% in favour. This isn’t mere stubbornness—Greenland’s 56,000 residents, mostly Indigenous Inuit, have spent decades asserting autonomy from Denmark, not seeking a new overlord. Prime Minister Múte Egede has been blunt: “Greenland is not for sale.” The sentiment echoes through Nuuk’s streets, where locals see Trump’s plan as a threat to their identity and future, not a golden opportunity.

Denmark, Greenland’s historical steward, stands firm against the U.S. push. Colonised by Denmark in the 18th century, Greenland gained self-governance in 1979, though Copenhagen retains control over defense and foreign affairs.

Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen has condemned Trump’s “unacceptable pressure,” vowing to protect Greenland’s sovereignty. The U.S. has leaned hard, with Trump threatening tariffs on Danish exports—a $12 billion trade relationship—unless Denmark bends. This brinkmanship risks fracturing a long-standing alliance with a fellow NATO member, exposing the limits of American strong-arming.

Ethically, the move reeks of neo-colonialism. Forcing a takeover overrides Greenlanders’ right to self-determination, a principle enshrined in international law. The idea of a superpower muscling in on a small, Indigenous population evokes a bygone era of conquest, clashing with modern norms of sovereignty and consent. Critics argue it’s not just Greenland at stake—such actions undermine the moral credibility of the U.S. on the global stage, inviting accusations of hypocrisy when it condemns similar overreach elsewhere.

The diplomatic fallout could be catastrophic. NATO allies like Germany and France have already voiced unease, with Chancellor Olaf Scholz warning against “moving borders by force.” Europe, a key U.S. partner, might distance itself, weakening transatlantic unity at a time when Russia and China are probing Western resolve. The U.S. could find itself isolated, its alliances frayed, and its influence diminished—all for an island that doesn’t want it. This isn’t just a bilateral spat; it’s a potential unraveling of decades of cooperation.

Worse, Trump’s Greenland takeover plans set a dangerous precedent. In today’s volatile world, territorial grabs fuel conflict—look at Russia’s annexation of Crimea, China’s claims in the South China Sea, or Israel’s expansion in contested lands. Each has sparked wars, displaced millions, and cost countless lives.

If the U.S. normalises conquest, it greenlights others to do the same, risking a cascade of instability. The colonial mindset Trump evokes has no place in a global order already scarred by such ambitions.

The debate boils down to this: does the U.S. prize strategic ambition over cooperation and consent? With America teetering on recession—GDP growth slowed to 1.6% in Q1 2025, per the Bureau of Economic Analysis—and Trump’s tariff threats already souring ties with Canada and the EU, this Greenland fixation could be the final straw. Alienating allies and hemorrhaging resources on a quixotic quest won’t make America great—it’ll leave it lonelier and weaker than ever.