The United States already has what it needs in Greenland. What it must protect is the alliances that make that access possible.
When the United States debates its role in the Arctic, Greenland inevitably enters the conversation. The island’s vast ice sheet, strategic location, and proximity to the North Atlantic sea lanes have long made it a focus for American defense planners.
However, recent rhetoric about "buying" Greenland or coercing Denmark and Greenland into concessions reflects a profound misunderstanding of the history, treaties, and alliances that already give the United States everything it needs — without resorting to threats, transactional diplomacy, or colonial language.
Greenland’s importance to global security has always stemmed from its geography. Positioned between North America and Europe, the island sits astride the great-circle routes that aircraft naturally follow across the North Atlantic. Its vast landmass — stretching from the Arctic Circle toward the pole — forms a northern shield for both continents. For the United States, this location has made Greenland indispensable for nearly a century.
During World War II, as German forces occupied Denmark, the United States moved quickly to secure Greenland to prevent Axis access to the North Atlantic. The island’s position allowed American aircraft to refuel and stage safely en route to Britain and the European theatre. Its airfields became essential stepping stones for ferrying bombers, fighters, and cargo aircraft across the ocean at a time when long‑range aviation was still developing.
This logic deepened during the Cold War. As the Soviet Union expanded its long‑range bomber and missile capabilities, Greenland became a natural early‑warning outpost. The United States and Denmark formalised this cooperation in the 1951 Defense of Greenland Agreement, which allowed the construction of Thule Air Base. Thule’s radar systems provided critical detection of ballistic missile launches over the Arctic, giving the United States and NATO precious minutes of warning in the event of an attack.
Greenland’s airfields and location also continued to serve as a waypoint for American troops traveling to and from Europe. Whether deploying forces, rotating units, or transporting equipment, the island offered a reliable, strategically placed stopover that reduced flight times and increased operational flexibility.
The lasting impact of alliances
Today, Greenland remains important for the same reason: its geography cannot be replicated. As Arctic routes open and great‑power competition intensifies, the island’s position at the crossroads of the North Atlantic and the polar region ensures it will remain central to U.S. and NATO security planning for decades.
However, the United States does not need to own Greenland to secure its interests in the Arctic. It never has. The suggestion that Washington must pressure or intimidate its allies to gain access to territory they have willingly shared for decades is not only historically inaccurate — it is strategically self-defeating.
To understand why, we must revisit the long, cooperative history among the United States, Denmark, and Greenland and examine how recent rhetoric risks undermining the very alliances that have made American power durable.
The modern U.S. presence in Greenland began not with coercion, but with cooperation. In 1951, at the height of the Cold War, Denmark and the United States signed the Defence of Greenland Agreement, a treaty that explicitly authorized the United States to construct and operate military installations on the island.
This was not a reluctant concession extracted under pressure. Denmark, a founding member of NATO, recognised the strategic necessity of defending the North Atlantic against Soviet expansion. Greenland’s geography — positioned between North America and Europe — made it a natural site for early-warning systems and air defence.
Under the treaty, the United States built 17 bases across Greenland, including the now-famous Thule Air Base, which remains operational today. Thousands of American troops were stationed on the island. They constructed runways, radar stations, and logistical hubs that were critical to continental defence.
Crucially, none of this required the United States to own Greenland. The treaty granted full access, freedom of movement, and operational control where needed. Denmark and Greenland cooperated willingly because they shared the same security concerns and trusted the United States as an ally.
That trust is the foundation of the U.S.–Danish–Greenlandic relationship. It is also what recent rhetoric threatens to undermine. After the Cold War, the United States dramatically reduced its military presence in Greenland. Most bases were closed, and most troops returned home. This was not the result of Danish pressure, Greenlandic resistance, or diplomatic conflict. It was a budgetary decision made in Washington.
With the Soviet Union dissolved and the Arctic no longer considered a frontline theatre, the United States sought to cut costs. Maintaining remote bases in extreme conditions was costly, and the Pentagon prioritised other regions. Denmark did not ask the United States to leave, and Greenland did not demand a withdrawal.
The United States left because it chose to — and because the threat environment had changed. This matters because it demonstrates a simple truth: the United States has always had access to Greenland when needed. And it still does.
Access without ownership
The 1951 treaty remains in force, though it has been updated to reflect Greenland’s growing autonomy within the Kingdom of Denmark. Today, any U.S. military activity in Greenland requires the consent of both Denmark and Greenland. However, that consent has never been withheld when the United States has made a reasonable request.
If Washington wanted to expand Thule Air Base, build new radar installations, or station additional personnel in Greenland, it could simply ask. As long-standing allies, Denmark and Greenland would almost certainly agree — just as they have for more than seven decades. This is how alliances work. They are built on trust, mutual respect, and shared interests. They do not require threats or coercion. They certainly do not require the language of real estate transactions.
Recent claims that Russian and Chinese ships are "all over the place" in Greenland are not supported by observable evidence. In fact, maritime traffic around Greenland is sparse. The island’s waters are difficult to navigate, poorly charted, and ice-choked for much of the year. There is no evidence of significant Russian or Chinese naval activity near Greenlandic territory.
The increase in Russian and Chinese presence in the Arctic is real — but it is concentrated in Russian waters on the opposite side of the Arctic Ocean. Russia has invested heavily in its Northern Fleet, Arctic brigades, and icebreaker fleet. China has declared itself a "near-Arctic state" and pursued scientific and commercial ventures in the region. But neither country is operating military vessels near Greenland in any meaningful way.
If the United States wants to counter Russian activity in the Arctic, it must engage with Russia — not attempt to purchase or pressure Greenland. If Washington wants to counter Chinese influence, it must do so through diplomacy, alliances, and economic strategy — not through territorial acquisition.
Why threatening allies backfires
When American leaders suggest that the United States should "buy" Greenland, imply that Denmark is failing to meet its obligations, or threaten to punish allies who refuse to comply with U.S. demands, they undermine the very alliances that have made American power effective.
Denmark is not a rival. Greenland is not a colony. They are partners — and have acted as such for generations. Threatening an ally that has consistently cooperated with U.S. defence needs is not only unnecessary; it is strategically reckless.
It signals to Europe that the United States views its allies not as sovereign partners but as assets to be acquired or pressured. It reinforces the perception that Washington is abandoning the postwar norms that have underpinned transatlantic security. This perception matters. Europe is watching. NATO is watching. And adversaries are watching.
The idea of "buying" Greenland is not new. The United States attempted to purchase the island in 1867 and again in 1946, but both attempts were rejected. The world has changed since then. Greenland is no longer a distant possession administered from Copenhagen. It is a self-governing territory with its own parliament, political identity, and aspirations.
When American leaders speak of purchasing Greenland, they evoke a colonial mindset that is deeply out of step with modern international norms. It suggests that the sovereignty of small nations and territories is negotiable — that powerful states can acquire land and people through financial transactions.
For Greenlanders, who have spent decades asserting their autonomy and cultural identity, this rhetoric is not merely offensive. It is destabilizing. It undermines their political agency and reduces their homeland to a commodity. For Danes, it is an affront to national sovereignty and a reminder of a colonial past they have sought to move beyond. For Europeans more broadly, it reinforces fears that the United States is drifting toward unilateralism and away from the cooperative principles that have defined the transatlantic relationship since 1945.
The United States relies on its European allies for far more than access to Greenland. NATO’s collective defence, intelligence sharing, basing rights, sanctions coordination, and diplomatic alignment all depend on trust.
When Washington threatens an ally — especially one as consistently cooperative as Denmark — it sends a message to the rest of Europe: American commitments may be conditional, transactional, or subject to sudden shifts in tone.
This weakens U.S. leverage in future negotiations. It makes European states more hesitant to support American initiatives, encouraging them to hedge their bets, diversify their partnerships, and pursue greater strategic autonomy. In other words, it pushes Europe toward the very posture American policymakers have long sought to avoid.
The real foundation of Arctic security
Greenland’s location is undeniably important. It straddles the GIUK Gap — the maritime corridor between Greenland, Iceland, and the United Kingdom that has been central to North Atlantic defence since the Cold War. It hosts critical early-warning radar systems that monitor missile launches across the Arctic. Its airfields and deep-water fjords could support future Arctic operations.
The strategic reality of Greenland is far simpler than the rhetoric surrounding it. The United States does not need to own the island to secure its interests in the Arctic — and never has. For more than seven decades, Washington has had precisely the access it requires through a framework built not on coercion but on cooperation.
Thule Air Base remains the centrepiece of America’s Arctic posture, a fully operational installation that provides early-warning capabilities and a critical foothold in the North Atlantic. Nothing about its function or future depends on American sovereignty over Greenland.
The United States already has full access to the base under the long-standing defence agreement with Denmark, an arrangement that has proven remarkably durable across changing administrations, shifting geopolitical landscapes, and Greenland’s evolution toward greater autonomy.
Beyond Thule, the United States retains the ability to negotiate additional basing rights as strategic needs arise. Denmark and Greenland have consistently demonstrated their willingness to cooperate, approving American requests throughout the Cold War and into the present. This is not a reluctant partnership; it is a shared security enterprise rooted in mutual interest.
That shared interest is the real foundation of Arctic stability. Denmark, Greenland, and the United States all recognise the challenges posed by Russian militarisation and the growing ambitions of external actors in the region. Their alignment is strengthened by a treaty framework that has functioned effectively for 74 years — a rare example of international defence cooperation that has required no threats, no ultimatums, and certainly no talk of territorial acquisition.
Ownership of Greenland would add nothing of strategic value. What it would add is diplomatic fallout: alienated allies, damaged trust, and a self-inflicted wound to America’s credibility in Europe. In a region where alliances are the decisive asset, coercive fantasies are not strategy. Cooperation is.
The cost of abandoning American principles
If Washington wants to expand its presence in Greenland, it can do so through the same method that has worked for decades: respectful diplomacy.
Denmark and Greenland have never refused a reasonable U.S. defence-related request. They understand the importance of Arctic security. They share American concerns about Russian militarisation and Chinese strategic ambitions. They value the U.S. presence at Thule and the broader NATO alliance.
There is no need for threats, coercion, or the language of acquisition. All the United States has to do is ask. For generations, American power has rested not only on military strength but also on moral authority — the belief that the United States stands for sovereignty, self- determination, and the rule of law. When American leaders speak of buying territory or punishing allies who refuse to sell, they undermine that moral foundation.
This is not merely a matter of tone. It affects how the world perceives American intentions, shapes how allies assess their interests, and influences how adversaries assess American resolve. If the United States abandons the principles that have guided its foreign policy since World War II, it risks becoming indistinguishable from the great-power competitors it seeks to deter.
The Arctic Future Depends on Alliances, not Acquisitions. Greenland is not for sale — and it does not need to be. The United States already has all it needs to secure its interests in the Arctic through the 1951 treaty, the NATO alliance, and Denmark and Greenland's goodwill. Threatening allies who have consistently cooperated with American defence needs is not a strategy. It is self-inflicted weakness. It alienates partners, emboldens adversaries, and undermines the very alliances that sustain American power.
The Arctic is becoming a more contested region. Russia is expanding its military presence. China is seeking influence. Climate change is opening new sea lanes and resource frontiers. In this environment, the United States needs strong alliances more than ever.
The path forward is clear: respect Denmark's and Greenland's sovereignty, honor the treaties that have served both sides well, and pursue diplomacy rooted in partnership rather than pressure. America does not need to own Greenland. It needs to value the allies who have stood beside it for generations — and who will continue to do so if treated with the respect they deserve.
