Power Without Annexation

Greenland as a Model for Arctic Politics

Over the past several days, statements have again emerged from Washington to the effect that the United States “very much needs” Greenland. The tone this time is noticeably harsher than during the “purchase” episode of 2019. This is no longer an eccentric offer framed as a real estate transaction, nor a diplomatic probe. It is a return to an older American logic in which strategic territories are discussed not from the standpoint of law, but from the standpoint of power. In the twenty-first century, that power is increasingly presented indirectly, through references to strategy, security, and objective necessity. As a rule, such necessity appears in American foreign policy precisely at those points on the map where future bases and logistical routes are being outlined.

Historically, the United States has resolved similar issues in much the same way, from the Louisiana Purchase to pressure surrounding the Panama Canal. The difference today lies mainly in presentation. In the twenty-first century, the logic of force is more often masked by discussions of stability. In practical terms, Washington first determines what it requires and only then decides how this requirement will be legalized, whether through purchase, agreement, pressure, or special circumstances. Lawyers enter the process later, in order to explain why what occurred should be understood not as a seizure, but as a natural evolution of events.

Greenland fits neatly into this tradition. For that reason, such statements in Washington are perceived not as an aberration, but as an acceptable instrument, even if allies express public indignation. History suggests that indignation is often part of the calculation. In some cases, it functions as a planned cost item, comparable to infrastructure expenses or diplomatic compensation.

Why, then, are the United States raising this issue at all? There are three practical reasons. The first concerns military geography and early warning. Greenland is the key to the Arctic corridor. Control over Greenland translates into control over the northern approach to the United States. In this logic, distance is measured not in kilometers, but in missile flight time, as military planners like to say.

The second reason lies in the growing strategic importance of the Arctic as an arena of competition with Russia and China. For the Pentagon, the Arctic is not a future scenario, but an ongoing game. In that game, Greenland is not a piece, but the board itself.

The third reason involves resources and supply chains. Greenland matters not only as territory, but as a potential source of critical minerals. This aligns with the broader American effort to reduce dependence on Chinese-controlled resource chains, which Washington would prefer to place under its own supervision well in advance.

Why resort to threats when negotiation is possible? The answer is straightforward, because a threat is also a form of negotiation. It is not a last resort, but a starting position. This is particularly true in American political culture, where maximum demands are stated first and bargaining follows later. Donald Trump has already accustomed the world to this method. At the same time, Washington understands perfectly well that annexation is costly and highly visible. Control is cheaper and appears far more respectable. That is why talk of annexation functions as a convenient scarecrow. The real objective is more mundane and therefore more dangerous, namely control without formal responsibility.

The United States will not seize Greenland. Washington already possesses workable instruments that provide nearly everything it needs without annexation. Nothing prevents further expansion of military presence and infrastructure through existing agreements, including the Pituffik base and associated systems. Within the Arctic agenda, this remains the most realistic path. Nor is there anything to stop political and economic pressure on Copenhagen and Nuuk in order to accelerate acceptance of American terms without prolonged European bureaucratic delays. The United States can also invest directly in resource and infrastructure projects, consolidating influence through capital and contracts rather than through a flag.

Aggressive rhetoric, however, will continue. It has already proven effective, both as a factor of partial European consolidation and as a means of placing the Arctic firmly at the center of the agenda. Most likely, Washington will continue bargaining over the format of American military expansion and political guarantees, without preparing for any landing operation. Even cautious European ministers who have commented on the situation question the plausibility of a direct move against Greenland because of the consequences for the entire system of allied obligations.

The principal reason the United States will not take Greenland by force lies in the fact that any annexation would place Washington in the position of an aggressor against the territory of an ally, Denmark. This would automatically trigger a chain of legal, political, and military consequences that the United States would be unable to manage on its own. Unlike operations against external adversaries, it would be impossible to invoke self-defense or special circumstances in a convincing manner. A seizure of Greenland would undermine the very logic of American leadership in the Western world, where power is legitimized not by its use, but by recognition from allies. For Washington, this would mean a loss of trust, manageability, and strategic reputation, at a cost entirely disproportionate to any benefit the island could offer.

 The Greenland episode remains instructive nonetheless. It offers a preview of how major powers are likely to address the Arctic question in the coming decades. The sooner American allies acknowledge this reality, the fewer illusions they will retain, and the greater their room for negotiation will become.