The Greenland Climbdown

By Noah Rothman

Thursday, January 22, 2026

 

By the time he arrived in Davos, Donald Trump’s obsession with seizing Greenland for the United States by whatever means may be necessary had not been a cost-free exercise.

 

Last August, the Danish government formally protested the “covert influence operations” it alleged the United States had undertaken on its soil. The Danish government fumed, as did the Danish and Greenlandic people, catalyzing a rally-round-the-flag effect that ran directly counter to the president’s stated desires. The push “had broken brains in Washington,” according to Politico, as young staffers who had not previously spent one minute contemplating Russian ballistic missile trajectories were suddenly imbued with the convert’s zeal for Trump’s expansionist cause, deeming their critics ignorant of the American national security imperatives they’d only just discovered themselves. Trump’s quixotic fixation with Anschluss, up to the point that he would not even rule out the illegal (per U.S. law) use of force against a NATO ally in its pursuit, periodically roiled markets — a cost borne by average U.S. investors. European asset holders had begun withdrawing from U.S. investments in droves. The initiative polled terribly with the American public, and for reasons Trump himself seemed to recognize as valid.

 

So, when the president announced in the vaguest possible terms that a “framework of a future deal with respect to Greenland” had been established, the democratic world breathed a sigh of relief. Having white-knuckled their way through this wild ride, Trump’s fans jumped at the opportunity to declare his muscling of America’s humble Nordic ally a brilliant strategic coup. Even if the deal’s announcement was preceded first by the president’s inexplicably belated declarations that “excessive strength and force” were “not on the table” anymore, you can’t argue with success. Trump got what he wanted.

 

At least, that was what the White House had insisted.

 

As the terms of the agreement were related to New York Times reporters, the key to the tentative arrangement spearheaded by NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte involved ceding to America “some sovereignty over small pockets of Greenland for military bases” beyond the American bases that are already a permanent presence on the island. Such an arrangement would be akin to the status enjoyed by the U.K.’s military installations on the island of Cyprus — a more robust structure than, for example, the lease that gives the U.S. control over the Guantanamo Bay facility in Cuba. After all, as the president stressed in his speech at Davos, “Psychologically, who the hell wants to defend a license agreement?”

 

But the White House’s account is disputed by his negotiating partners. “We didn’t discuss that issue at all,” said Rutte when asked about the extension of U.S. sovereignty to Greenlandic soil. Rather, he maintains that discussions were limited to mutual security initiatives in the Arctic. The Danes, too, refused to allow the president’s narrative to stand. “NATO is fully aware of the Kingdom of Denmark’s position,” a statement from the Danish prime minister read. “We can negotiate on everything political: security, investments, economy. But we cannot negotiate on our sovereignty. I have been informed that this has not been the case.” Reporters subsequently confirmed that the “future framework” retailed by the president “does not include any suggestion that Denmark would cede sovereignty of parts of Greenlandic territory to house US military bases.”

 

So, what we’re left with is a comprehensive retreat on the president’s part. We should not be afraid to acknowledge the evidence of our eyes for fear that the observation might inspire a bout of self-destructive petulance from the president. Such petulance is how we got here in the first place. Nor should we encourage Trump’s worst instincts by rationalizing them — telling ourselves that no other president and no other means could have secured this compromise, whatever it ends up being in the end. This endeavor was an entirely unnecessary and self-defeating enterprise.

 

Even if the president’s account of the framework is accurate — a dubious presumption, but one to which many will cling — the notion that the U.S. could not have secured additional basing and commercial licensing rights in Greenland absent the threat of invasion and occupation is nonsensical. His bullying incurred material costs, sacrificed American prestige, tarnished its reputation with its allies, and bore an ugly resemblance to America’s irredentist enemies abroad. Nothing that could not have been gained through more diplomatic means was secured. Much that should not have been sacrificed in this process was lost.

 

Trump wants to say he won. His fans will subordinate their discretion to that objective lest they concede that their emotional investment in this improvisatory spectacle was a waste of resources. But the rest of us should not call his recklessness a masterstroke. Not unless we want to see more of it.