President Trump’s aggressive pursuit of Greenland has accomplished something European antifederalists have failed to achieve in decades: definitively proving that “European solidarity” is a fiction. The administration’s blunt-force approach to acquiring Danish territory has exposed fundamental divisions within Europe while simultaneously strengthening the historically unpopular establishment parties President Trump opposes.¹ What should have been a straightforward acquisition has instead become an unfortunate lesson in how business brinksmanship fails when applied to alliance diplomacy.

The most immediate and ironic consequence of the Greenland gambit is the political gift it has handed to Western European establishment parties. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom have seized upon “defending Denmark” as a broadly popular nationalist cause that allows them to outflank their domestic right-wing challengers on patriotic grounds. FN, AfD, and Reform UK have spent years building their platform around protecting national sovereignty.² Now Macron, Scholz, and Starmer can claim that mantle by protecting “poor little Denmark” from American bullying.³

The Trump administration now finds itself in the absurd position of energizing the same globalist establishment it opposes by providing them with a cause that resonates with their own populations’ nationalist instincts. Standing up to the United States on behalf of an ally is politically costless virtue-signaling that allows European leaders to appear strong without actually risking anything. They get to posture as defenders of international norms while the United States does the hard work of making them look principled. The Western European establishment hasn’t had a drum to bang like this since Russia invaded Ukraine four years ago.

Furthermore, the calculus of effort on Greenland is badly imbalanced. Greenland possesses genuine value in rare earth minerals, Arctic access, and forward positions against Chinese expansion. Operationally, seizing Greenland would be trivial. The United States could accomplish the mission with a fraction of the joint force. One brigade of the 11^th Airborne Division and some Coast Guard cutters would suffice.

But the political cost of such an operation exceeds the conceivable gain. This situation demanded a scalpel, not a sledgehammer; quiet negotiations with Copenhagen offering substantial incentives that make the transaction politically palatable to the Danes.⁴ That did not happen.

Here lies one of the issues with translating business negotiation tactics into foreign policy. President Trump’s “never take anything off the table” approach works in real estate deals where the worst-case scenario is a failed transaction. In foreign policy, for the Commander-in-Chief, “all options on the table” inherently includes military force, which tends to put the other party’s back up against the wall. This sort of Melian brinksmanship should not have been deployed against NATO allies, especially inoffensive ones with very small armies.⁵ The moment military options entered the conversation, the nature of the negotiation fundamentally changed. The United States could not even obliquely threaten Denmark with brute force without giving cause for every capital west of the Spree River to lose their collective minds.

The real story, however, is not what this reveals about American policy but what it exposes about Europe itself. The response is revealing. The large economies of Western Europe — France, Germany, and the United Kingdom — have been loudly outraged. Eastern Europe has been conspicuously quiet, with some voices even suggesting Denmark should accommodate American wishes.⁶ Southern Europe, far more concerned with internal stability and migration over the Mediterranean, has largely treated the entire affair with indifference.⁷

This is not the response of a unified bloc. This is the response pattern of a continent with fundamentally different threat perceptions and strategic priorities. Eastern Europe, living in  the shadow of Moscow, understand that American security guarantees matter more than Danish sovereignty over — to borrow Voltaire’s expression — “a few acres of ice and snow.” If appeasing Washington on Greenland maintains American commitment to Article 5, that’s a trade that Warsaw and Tallinn make ten times out of ten. Western Europe, insulated from the Russian plague by a Polish cordon sanitaire, have the luxury of treating this as a question of principles and norms.

The irony is that France, Germany, and the United Kingdom are attempting to construct “European solidarity” around defending Denmark at precisely the moment when their position reveals how hollow that solidarity actually is. Eastern Europe is not rallying to Denmark’s defense. Southern Europe is not rallying to Denmark’s defense. The only countries getting lathered are the ones with abstract security concerns.⁸ Greenland has exposed that “Europe” and “Novus Homo Bruxellensis” remain largely a Franco-German construct.

Europe may be fractured, but the United States is now hoisted on its own petard. Backing down at this point damages credibility and accomplishes nothing after having already paid the diplomatic cost. The least-bad option is pursuing a purchase of Greenland to salvage something from the wreckage. The diplomatic damage is already done, all because there is no coherent strategic framework driving these decisions.

The Greenland affair reveals an ongoing issue with the present administration’s approach to foreign policy. There is no rudder connecting strategic moves to policy objectives.⁹ But it has also shown which allies will back American strategic priorities.¹⁰ This matters enormously as the United States continues to build its strategy of denial in the Pacific. If the United States is willing to go this hard over Greenland, the Chinese calculus on Taiwan shifts. American unpredictability becomes an asset in deterrence. If Washington will consider military force against Denmark over some polar bears, the Chinese Communist Party must assume we would absolutely fight over Taiwan’s semiconductor industry and the First Island Chain. The same recklessness that infuriated Paris and London might actually strengthen deterrence in the Taiwan Strait.

That lesson came at a price we should not have been willing to pay. But having paid it, we might as well extract whatever strategic value remains.

The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official position of the United States Military Academy, Department of the Army, or Department of Defense.

1. Alex Wickham, “Starmer’s Past Unpopularity May Be the Very Thing That Saves Him,” Bloomberg, January 20, 2026. ↩︎
2. Mary Harrington, “Trump is Losing the European Right,” UnHerd, January 20, 2026 ↩︎
3. Guardian Editorial Staff, “The Guardian View on Trump and Greenland: Get Real! Bullying is Not Strength,” The Guardian, January 18, 2026. ↩︎
4. Barbara Sprunt, “U.S. Lawmakers Wrap Reassurance Tour in Denmark As Tensions Around Greenland Grow,” NPR, January 19, 2026. ↩︎
5. “The Army,” Danish Defence, accessed January 20, 2026. ↩︎
6. Sandor Zsiros, “EU’s Pro-Trump Leaders Tread Carefully As Greenland Crisis Grows,” Euronews, January 19, 2026. ↩︎
7. Agencia EFE, “Spain Urges Caution on Greenland, Rules out NATO Collapse,” EFE Noticias, January 15, 2026. ↩︎
8. Molly O’Neal, “What’s Holding Back German Rearmament? It Turns Out, a Lot,” Responsible Statecraft, last modified May 15, 2024. ↩︎
9. “The meaning of “America First” is in Flux,” The Economist, January 19, 2026 ↩︎
10. Jesse Johnson, “U.S.-Japan Alliance ‘unshakable,’ Koizumi Declares After Pentagon Meeting with Hegseth,” The Japan Times, January 17, 2026 ↩︎