The war in Europe cost them Greenland

The United States has secured expanded access to Greenland through a newly announced framework deal reached between President Trump and NATO. This agreement, established at the World Economic Forum in Davos to resolve recent trade tensions, provides the U.S. with total and permanent access for security purposes and mineral exploration. The deal facilitates increased military cooperation, including potential sites for the Golden Dome missile defense system, while also streamlining U.S. involvement in mining projects. For example, the U.S. Export-Import Bank has issued a $120 million letter of interest for the Tanbreez rare earth mine to secure supply chains for critical minerals. Although the U.S. has firm access for these strategic activities, actual resource extraction remains a long-term project due to Greenland’s extreme weather and lack of infrastructure.

The war in Europe cost them Greenland. Not in the literal sense of territorial transfer, but in the deeper strategic sense that comes from distraction, resource depletion, and geopolitical imbalance. While the United States remains outside any major conflict, Europe and Russia are locked in a grinding war that consumes their attention, budgets, and industrial capacity. In this environment, Greenland becomes a casualty of neglect rather than conquest, a strategic asset slipping from European influence simply because Europe can no longer afford to look north.

Europe’s war fundamentally reshapes its priorities. A continent fighting for stability cannot simultaneously invest in Arctic development, mineral extraction, or long‑term geopolitical positioning. They face the constraints as its neighbors: limited bandwidth, urgent defense needs, and a political climate dominated by immediate survival. The Arctic, once a region of growing European interest, becomes an afterthought. Even if sovereignty remains intact, influence erodes. Strategic presence requires sustained attention, and Europe no longer has that luxury.

The United States, by contrast, is not at war. Its military remains globally deployable, its economy unburdened by wartime mobilization, and its political leadership free to pursue long‑term strategic goals. Greenland is central to those goals. The island hosts critical American military infrastructure, including the Pituffik Space Base, and sits at the crossroads of emerging Arctic shipping routes. It also contains rare‑earth deposits that could reduce U.S. dependence on foreign supply chains. With Europe consumed by conflict, Washington becomes the only Western power capable of sustained engagement in the Arctic. Influence flows to the actor with capacity, not the actor with historical ties.

China’s position further complicates the picture. Its dominance in rare‑earth mining and processing gives it enormous leverage over global technology supply chains. Greenland’s mineral reserves represent one of the few potential alternatives, but Europe’s wartime paralysis prevents it from investing, regulating, or competing effectively. Chinese firms, well‑capitalized, can move more aggressively into Greenlandic projects while European institutions remain focused on the war. The result is a quiet but decisive shift: Europe loses ground not because others take it by force, but because others act while Europe cannot.

In this sense, the war in Europe costs them Greenland by default. The island does not change hands, but the balance of power around it shifts. The United States expands its Arctic role. Strategic loss does not always appear on a map. Sometimes it appears in the form of opportunities missed, influence ceded, and priorities forced elsewhere by the demands of war. The war in Europe cost them Greenland.