It is easy to imagine the basic mechanics of a US takeover of Greenland. Donald Trump surges forces to America’s Pituffik space base in northern Greenland, whose 3,000-metre-long runway can accommodate large transport aircraft carrying troops and equipment. Denmark’s Mette Frederiksen warns Trump to stop his threatening behaviour. But they both know that Denmark cannot put up much of a military fight. Greenland has a population of around 57,000; the Danes have roughly 20,000 active-duty troops. The US has 1.3 million. Copenhagen could invoke Article 5 of the Nato treaty, but there is little support, or capacity, among the alliance for war with the US. The EU calls for respect for international law. Keir Starmer says he is carefully monitoring the situation.
One morning, in the weeks that follow, US Marines depart the Pituffik base and take control of Greenland’s airports. US special forces surround Denmark’s joint arctic command in Nuuk. Pete Hegseth, the Secretary of War, posts an image of Greenland in the colours of the American flag. Shortly after, Trump writes on Truth Social: “Greenland now belongs to the USA. We will work with the people of Greenland to MAKE GREENLAND GREAT AGAIN.”
This scenario is fictional, drawn in part from Elizabeth Buchanan’s book So You Want to Own Greenland?. Some will say it is alarmist, even hysterical, to consider forcible annexation. What has prevented the US from seizing Greenland to date is not a lack of means, but a lack of political will, based on a sober calculation about American interests, the value of its alliances, and the understanding that such an attack would shatter Nato, alienate Europe and burn down what remains of the international order.
Then again, until 3 January, it might have seemed alarmist to suggest that Trump would attack Venezuela, abduct its president and declare himself “in charge”. The man who promised to put an end to foreign entanglements was hardly expected to stake his presidency on a gamble over regime change. But it is clear now that he is a radically interventionist president, brandishing his “Donroe doctrine” in the pursuit of hemispheric dominance. Experience has taught him that spectacular displays of military force work: it feels good, it looks good on TV and it allows him to humiliate his enemies. Coverage of his waning popularity has been replaced by Maduro being perp-walked in handcuffs.
There is still a difference for most Americans between a military intervention Latin America – where the US has meddled, on and off, for centuries – and attacking a European ally. But it is more than time for Europe to reckon seriously with the repeated US threats. Unlike his campaign in Venezuela – the rationale for which has veered from combatting “narco-terrorism” to exploiting the country’s oil supplies – Trump’s case for controlling Greenland has been more consistent. As he reiterated on 4 January: “It’s so strategic. Right now, Greenland is covered with Russian and Chinese ships all over the place. We need Greenland from the standpoint of national security.” He said they should talk about it again “in 20 days”. Nor is Trump the first US president to covet the territory. After the Second World War, when the US established a sizeable military presence in Greenland, Harry Truman offered $100m in gold for the island, which he deemed a “military necessity”. Denmark turned him down.
Instead, the two countries became Nato allies. Copenhagen agreed to the US expanding its military facilities in Greenland during the Cold War, including what is now the Pituffik space base (which JD Vance visited last April, despite protests from thousands of Greenlanders). Pituffik serves as a crucial early warning site for ballistic missile launches from Russia. Greenland also forms the northernmost pole of the Greenland-Iceland-United Kingdom gap, a maritime choke point between the Arctic Ocean – where Russia’s Northern Fleet is based – and the North Atlantic. Trump is also drawn to Greenland’s deposits of rare earth deposits and its proximity to Arctic trade routes that are opening up as the ice retreats.
The enduring mystery remains why Trump has decided he has to “get” Greenland to achieve his aims. Denmark would have been more than happy for the US to increase its military presence under the terms of their existing alliance. Equally, Greenlanders would have welcomed more investment from the US, as long as they were not considered part of the sale. Perhaps it is simply that Trump enjoys pushing weaker states around and asserting his power.
A coercive campaign is still far more likely than an airborne assault, but at a minimum the US is likely to step up economic and diplomatic pressure, along with its efforts to stoke Greenland’s independence movement and appeal directly to Greenlanders in the pursuit of what Vance has called a “Donald Trump-style” deal. Certainly, there is nothing in the European response to Venezuela that will have caused Trump to question his belief that the continent is in terminal decline and incapable of meaningful pushback. The urgent priority must be for Europe’s leaders to persuade Trump that he has underestimated their resolve – to spell out the sanctions and the severed trade ties that would follow a hostile takeover, and the cost to the American economy in the years to come.
Denmark is now said to be in “full crisis mode”, with Trump administration officials stressing their determination to take control of Greenland, by force if necessary. “Nobody’s going to fight the United States militarily over the future of Greenland,” said Stephen Miller, White House deputy chief of staff, on 5 January. “We live in a world… that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world since the beginning of time.”
[Further reading: The US can’t treat Venezuela like Panama]
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This article appears in the 07 Jan 2026 issue of the New Statesman, What Trump wants
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