Why Greenland Is Back on America’s Radar— and Trump’s Too

Back in 2019, then-President Donald J. Trump stunned the world with a proposal that many took for satire: the idea that the United States might purchase Greenland. The Danish government swiftly and bluntly rejected it. Greenland’s leaders were indignant. The global press had a field day, labeling it “imperial fantasy,” “real estate diplomacy,” or even “the art of the deal gone arctic.” But beneath the surface of sarcasm and memes, the proposal reflected something very real — a long-standing, deeply embedded American interest in Greenland that is resurfacing with renewed urgency in a new era of global rivalry and climate transformation.

Now in his second term in the White House, President Trump’s foreign policy team is signaling that Greenland has once again become a key focus of U.S. grand strategy. Unlike the first time around, this time the world — particularly China and Russia — is watching with heightened urgency and concern.

American interest in Greenland dates back at least to 1946 when President Harry Truman offered Denmark $100 million in gold to purchase the island outright. Denmark declined, but the strategic rationale behind the offer has only grown stronger. During the Cold War, the U.S. built Thule Air Base (now Pituffik Space Base), a vital node in the ballistic missile early warning system (BMEWS) and the broader NORAD air defense network. Today, it remains the northernmost U.S. military installation in the world and plays an increasingly critical role in space surveillance and missile defense.

Fast forward to the 21st century, and the Arctic is no longer a frozen, inaccessible void. Due to climate change, the region is melting — rapidly. Satellite data show Arctic Sea ice has declined by more than 40% since 1979, and each summer season now sees increased maritime traffic along new northern shipping routes. The Northern Sea Route (dominated by Russia) and the Northwest Passage (claimed by Canada) could significantly reduce shipping time between Asia and Europe by as much as 40%. Whoever controls or has access to these new corridors gains not only economic leverage but also geopolitical advantage.

Greenland sits at the literal crossroads of this transformation. It is the closest landmass to many of these emerging routes and could serve as a key base for logistics, search-and-rescue operations, early-warning radar, and even forward-deployed forces. The Pentagon views it as a cornerstone of future Arctic defense infrastructure. But there’s more than geography at play. Greenland is rich — staggeringly rich — in untapped resources.

Buried beneath its receding ice sheets are potentially vast reserves of rare earth elements (REEs), uranium, zinc, iron ore, and even offshore oil and natural gas. Rare earths, in particular, have captured Washington’s attention. These 17 obscure but indispensable minerals are essential to the manufacturing of everything from smartphones to wind turbines to guided missiles. The catch? Over 85% of the global supply is currently processed in China.

The Kvanefjeld project in southern Greenland contains one of the world’s largest undeveloped deposits of rare earths and uranium. Though the primary operating company is Australian-listed Greenland Minerals, a significant share of the project has been held by Shenghe Resources, a Chinese state-linked rare earth firm based in Sichuan. Shenghe’s involvement goes beyond passive investment — it has provided technical expertise, offtake agreements, and equipment support, raising serious concerns in Washington about future Chinese control over a critical supply chain. U.S. policymakers increasingly view Shenghe’s foothold as part of China’s long-term strategy to monopolize rare earth production globally, using “strategic patience” to quietly acquire upstream assets in politically vulnerable regions.

But rare earths are only part of the story. Around 2017–2018, China’s interest in Greenland deepened. Chinese state-owned enterprises, including China Communications Construction Company (CCCC) and China National Offshore Oil Corporation (CNOOC), began expressing interest in funding or constructing civilian infrastructure across the island — most notably, three new airports in Nuuk, Ilulissat, and Qaqortoq. These airports are essential for Greenland’s tourism, health care, and internal connectivity, but they also possess potential dual-use (civil-military) applications, especially if built to extended runway standards capable of hosting large cargo aircraft.

This prompted a rare moment of overt intervention. The Trump administration, alarmed by the prospect of Chinese firms gaining a physical foothold in Greenland, urged Denmark to block the deal. The Danish government soon stepped in and offered direct financial support to ensure the contracts did not go to Chinese bidders. Behind closed doors, it was seen as a turning point — a tacit acknowledgment that Greenland was no longer just a frozen rock with a few fishing villages, but a high-stakes node in the emerging U.S.-China-Russia competition.

Greenland’s leaders, for their part, are not oblivious. The island has long harbored ambitions of independence from Denmark, especially since winning expanded self-rule in 2009. Though Denmark still manages foreign affairs and defense, most domestic policies — including those governing mineral extraction — are now locally controlled. While the notion of being “purchased” by another country was broadly condemned (with 85% of residents opposing Trump’s 2019 idea), Greenland’s leadership remains pragmatic. Economic development is desperately needed, and Chinese and American interest alike is a source of both opportunity and unease.

This sets the stage for what Trump’s second term could look like. If he returns to office, advisers say Arctic strategy will become a pillar of his national security agenda, with Greenland at its core. Expect stronger military ties, expanded economic aid packages, and aggressive moves to dislodge Chinese commercial presence in key industries. Expect Trump to push for deeper bilateral cooperation outside traditional NATO channels. And expect a renewed push to make Greenland a long-term U.S. strategic partner — if not in name, then certainly in substance.

Beneath the memes and media mockery, Trump's Greenland idea was never about land ownership. It was about control — over sea routes, mineral wealth, satellite infrastructure, and geopolitical positioning in the Arctic. And now, as the Arctic melts and powers maneuver for dominance, Greenland is no longer a curiosity. It is a prize.

In a world reshaped by climate disruption, technological rivalry, and geopolitical fragmentation, even a remote, ice-covered island with fewer than 60,000 residents can become the focal point of 21st-century power politics. Greenland may not be for sale — but its future will be contested, and whoever shapes that future may very well shape the next chapter of global order.