What did Donald Trump communicate during his phone call with Mette Frederiksen, the Danish Prime Minister, on Wednesday? Although I may not know his exact words, I certainly witnessed the repercussions of that conversation. Arriving in Copenhagen the day after the call, I found that discussions surrounding the future of Greenland—a territory owned by Denmark that Trump is keen on—were suddenly in jeopardy. Meetings I had scheduled with Danish politicians were unexpectedly at risk of being canceled. Amid Frederiksen’s urgent meetings with business leaders, her foreign minister’s gathering with party leaders, and an additional emergency session of the foreign affairs committee in Parliament, everything seemed to be in a state of upheaval.
Consequently, by mid-morning, I found myself standing on the Knippel Bridge, which connects the Danish foreign ministry and the Danish Parliament, waiting for instructions on which way to proceed. January in Denmark is far from warm; I eventually made my way to the Parliament, only to find out that my meeting had been canceled. Following this, silence reigned as no one was willing to make any statements on the record. This political turmoil was ostensibly sparked by Americans who supported Trump due to issues like the rising cost of eggs.
[Read: The intellectual rationalization for annexing Greenland]
In private discussions, the most commonly used word to describe Trump’s phone call was rough, while threaten was the verb most frequently mentioned. The prevailing sentiment was one of confusion. Trump made it clear to Frederiksen that he is serious about Greenland, viewing it as a potential real estate opportunity. However, Greenland is not merely a desirable piece of beachfront property. It is the world’s largest island and an autonomous territory of Denmark, home to individuals who are Danish citizens, participate in Danish elections, and hold seats in the Danish Parliament. Just as an American president cannot sell Florida, a Danish prime minister lacks the authority to sell Greenland.
Moreover, Denmark is a nation whose global enterprises—including Lego, the shipping giant Maersk, and Novo Nordisk, the manufacturer of Ozempic—engage in billions of dollars worth of trade with the United States and have significant American investments as well. These were seen as positive elements of the Danish-American relationship. Both Denmark and the United States are founding members of NATO, leading Danish leaders to believe that this alliance holds significance in Washington. Yet, these connections have now become a source of vulnerability. On Thursday afternoon, Frederiksen, flanked by her foreign and defense ministers, made a clear statement: “It has been suggested from the American side that unfortunately a situation may arise where we work less together than we do today in the economic area.”
However, the most challenging aspect of this crisis lies not in preparing for an ambiguous economic threat from a close ally but in grappling with the sudden emergence of a Kafkaesque absurdity. Trump’s demands appear illogical. Anything the U.S. might want to accomplish in Greenland is already possible today. Denmark has never obstructed U.S. military actions, such as constructing bases, exploring for minerals, deploying troops in Greenland, or patrolling nearby sea lanes. Historically, the Danes have even permitted Americans to act contrary to Danish policies in Greenland. During lunch, a former Danish diplomat recounted a Cold War anecdote about an incident shortly after Denmark had officially declared itself a nuclear-free nation. In 1957, the U.S. ambassador approached Denmark’s then-prime minister, H. C. Hansen, inquiring about the possibility of storing nuclear weapons at a U.S. base in Greenland. Would Denmark care to be informed?
[Read: Trump is thinking of buying a giant socialist island]
Hansen’s response was a cryptic note, described in diplomatic records as “informal, personal, highly secret and limited to one copy each on the Danish and American side.” In this note, which was not disclosed to the Danish Parliament or the press and remained public knowledge until the 1990s, Hansen indicated that since the U.S. ambassador had not specified any plans or formal requests, he believed, “I do not think your remarks give rise to any comment from my side.” In essence, If you don’t inform us about nuclear weapons in Greenland, we won’t have to object.
The Danes were loyal allies of the U.S. then and continue to be today. Throughout the Cold War, they played a pivotal role in NATO’s strategic planning. Following the Soviet Union’s collapse, they restructured their military, creating expeditionary forces specifically designed to assist their American allies. After 9/11, when the NATO mutual-defense clause was invoked for the first time—on the U.S.’s behalf—Denmark sent troops to Afghanistan, resulting in the deaths of 43 Danish soldiers. This represented a higher mortality rate, relative to their population of about 5 million, than the U.S. experienced. The Danes also deployed forces to Iraq and participated in NATO missions in the Balkans. They believed they were part of a network of relationships that had underpinned American power and influence over the past half-century. Because U.S. alliances were based on shared values rather than merely transactional interests, the nature of cooperation was different. Denmark was willing to assist the U.S. when requested or volunteered without being asked. “So what did we do wrong?” one Danish official inquired.
Clearly, they did nothing wrong—but that’s part of the crisis too. Trump himself struggles to articulate, whether at press conferences or during phone calls, why he feels the need to acquire Greenland or how Denmark could grant American companies and military personnel greater access than they already possess. Others may attempt to rationalize his statements. The Economist has posited the existence of a “Trump doctrine,” and countless articles have pondered Greenland’s strategic significance. Nonetheless, in Copenhagen (and beyond), many suspect a more irrational motivation: Trump simply wishes for the U.S. to appear larger on a map.
This tendency—to disregard existing borders, laws, and treaties; to treat other nations as mere constructs; to sever trade ties and damage friendships solely for the sake of projecting power—is one that Trump shares with historical imperialists. Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov has even pointed out the similarities between the U.S.’s desire for Greenland and Russia’s territorial ambitions in Ukraine, suggesting that a referendum in Greenland could resemble the coerced votes staged by Russia in Crimea and eastern Ukraine.
Of course, Trump may eventually lose interest in Greenland. However, there is a possibility he may not. The unpredictability of his decisions is notable; he often shifts his focus based on his latest interactions, sometimes returning to previously abandoned obsessions: windmills, sharks, Hannibal Lecter, and now Greenland. For Danes and many others who rely on planning, treaties, or long-term strategies grounded in logical reasoning, this approach to policymaking feels arbitrary, meaningless, and surreal. Yet this state of affairs is now a permanent fixture, leaving no option for retreat.
