Greenland stands as a stark, frozen testament to overlapping layers of colonialism and imperialism—both European (Danish) and American (U.S.).
Far from being a quaint Nordic administrative arrangement or a benign security partnership, the island's status reflects centuries of external domination, resource extraction, forced displacement, and strategic maneuvering that continue into 2026.
The current crisis, fueled by Donald Trump's aggressive push to acquire or control Greenland during his second presidency, only lays bare what has long been true: this is dual imperialism at work, where Denmark's settler colonial legacy intersects with ongoing U.S. military and geopolitical dominance.
Critically, Trump's naked show of power here is not exceptional; it represents a continued expansion of Euro-American white supremacy, rooted in historical patterns of racialized domination that view Indigenous lands as extensions of white entitlement.
Danish Settler Colonialism: A Persistent Structure
Denmark's relationship with Greenland is fundamentally settler colonial. Beginning with Hans Egede's 1721 missionary expedition, which doubled as an entry point for trade monopolies and governance, Denmark treated the island as a resource colony. Inuit populations faced cultural assimilation, Danish-language imposition, forced relocations, and exploitative policies that prioritized Copenhagen's economic interests.
Even after formal colonial status ended in 1953 (when Greenland became an integral part of Denmark), and despite home rule in 1979 and self-rule in 2009, core elements persist. Denmark controls foreign affairs, defense, and currency; it provides a massive annual block grant (around 4-5 billion DKK, forming a significant portion of Greenland's budget), creating economic dependency. Inuit self-determination remains constrained, with historical injustices like forced sterilizations and child removals still echoing in contemporary debates.
This isn't benevolent oversight—it's settler colonialism's enduring logic: the replacement or marginalization of Indigenous sovereignty to secure settler (here, Danish) interests, especially as melting ice opens access to rare earth minerals, fisheries, and shipping routes vital for global capital.
This framework is steeped in white supremacy, where European "civilization" justifies the subjugation of non-white Indigenous peoples, framing them as incapable of self-governance.
Layered U.S. Imperialism: Military Foothold and Expansionist Ambitions
Superimposed on Danish control is America's imperial presence, rooted in the 1951 Defense Agreement (signed amid Cold War necessities but enduring today).
This pact granted the U.S. permanent rights to bases like Pituffik Space Base (formerly Thule Air Base), established through the forcible relocation of Inuit communities in the 1950s—130 people from "Old Thule" moved 97 km north in 1953 to isolate them from soldiers, later ruled unlawful by Denmark's Supreme Court.
The base, now a U.S. Space Force installation, supports missile warning, space surveillance, and NORAD operations—no rent paid, free movement for U.S. forces. It symbolizes how U.S. imperialism uses "mutual defense" under NATO to maintain strategic footholds in the Arctic, countering perceived threats from Russia and China while securing access to emerging resources.
Trump's revival of the 2019 "purchase" idea has escalated this into overt imperialism. By 2026, threats of tariffs on European allies, "all options" including military force, hybrid warfare tactics, and massive "development initiatives" ($10 billion proposed) aim to pressure or bypass Denmark. Protests in Nuuk and Copenhagen chant "We are not for sale" and "Yankee go home," while Greenlandic leaders emphasize unity with Denmark against U.S. aggression.
Polls show overwhelming opposition (85%+ against joining the U.S.), and even independence advocates now see Danish ties as a buffer against American takeover.
This isn't new—U.S. leaders eyed Greenland since WWII—but Trump's brazen expansionism ("we're going to do it the hard way if needed") revives 19th-century territorial grabs, echoing the Monroe Doctrine's modern "Trump corollary."
Far from an aberration, this embodies the continuity of Euro-American white supremacy: a worldview that positions white-led nations as rightful inheritors of global territories, dismissing Indigenous claims as obstacles to "progress."
Trump's rhetoric—treating Greenland like real estate—mirrors historical U.S. expansions (e.g., the Louisiana Purchase, Alaska acquisition) that expanded white settler domains at the expense of Native peoples, perpetuating racial hierarchies where non-white sovereignty is expendable.
Interwoven Imperialisms: No Innocent Parties
The interplay is key: Denmark's colonial hold enables U.S. access via NATO and bilateral agreements, while U.S. pressure sometimes forces Denmark to confront its own history (e.g., increased aid and military presence in Greenland post-2025 threats).
Yet both powers frame their roles as protective—Denmark as the "good colonizer" compared to harsher models, the U.S. as securing "national security" against rivals.
Greenlanders pay the price: cultural erosion, environmental risks from bases (e.g., 1968 Thule nuclear contamination), economic dependency, and now geopolitical pawn status. Independence movements, long simmering across parties, face complications—Trump's threats may delay full sovereignty by making Danish support seem safer, even as they highlight the need to escape both overlords.
This dual structure reveals how white supremacy operates transnationally: European colonialism sets the stage, American imperialism amplifies it, both rooted in a shared ideology that naturalizes white control over "peripheral" lands and peoples. Trump's actions aren't a deviation; they're an unmasked extension of this legacy, from Manifest Destiny to modern Arctic grabs.
The Broader Lesson
Greenland exemplifies how colonialism and imperialism rarely operate in isolation. European settler projects pave the way for American hegemony, creating layered occupations that Indigenous peoples navigate for survival. In 2026, as Arctic geopolitics heats up, the island's fate underscores a truth: sovereignty cannot be selective.
True decolonization requires dismantling both Danish dependency structures and U.S. imperial overreach—not pitting one against the other.
Until then, Greenland remains a chilling reminder that white European and American powers continue to treat vast Indigenous territories as strategic assets, not sovereign homelands. The question isn't whether it's colonialism—it's whose version gets to dominate next, and how white supremacy ensures it always benefits the same racial elite.