JANUARY 13 — When the Prime Minister of Denmark declares that her country faces a “decisive moment” over Greenland, it is worth pausing to ask whether the famous line from Hamlet still resonates – or whether the rot lies not in Copenhagen, but in the international system itself.

The current standoff over Greenland is not about Danish incompetence or Nordic indecision.

Rather, it exposes something far more unsettling: the steady erosion of norms among allies, and the return of a blunt, transactional geopolitics in which even long-standing partnerships are no longer immune from coercive logic.

Greenland as prize, not partner

Greenland’s sudden elevation from peripheral territory to geopolitical prize reflects a simple reality.

As Arctic ice melts, geography changes. New sea lanes shorten distances between Europe and Asia.

Vast reserves of rare earths and critical minerals – essential for energy transition and advanced technologies – become accessible.

Strategic depth, once frozen and remote, is now contested.

In this context, US interest in Greenland is hardly surprising.

What is striking, however, is the manner in which that interest has been articulated – openly framed as acquisition, even hinting at force.

Such language would have been unthinkable between Nato allies a generation ago.

For Denmark, a country that has anchored its foreign policy firmly in international law, alliance solidarity and multilateralism, this rhetoric represents a profound shock.

For Greenlanders themselves, it is an even deeper affront: a reminder that small populations on large territories are often spoken about, rather than with.

Not Danish decay, but alliance strain

To suggest that something is “rotten” in Denmark misunderstands the moment.

Copenhagen has not wavered in its defence of sovereignty or self-determination.

On the contrary, Danish leaders have reaffirmed that Greenland’s future cannot be decided by external pressure, regardless of who applies it.

The rot, if one insists on the metaphor, lies elsewhere – in the growing normalisation of power-based claims within alliances that once prided themselves on restraint.

The post-war Western order rested on an implicit bargain: allies might disagree, but they would not threaten each other’s territorial integrity. That assumption now looks increasingly fragile.

When strategic necessity is invoked to justify extraordinary demands, even among friends, the line between ally and adversary becomes dangerously thin.

Greenland’s own voice

One of the most troubling aspects of the current discourse is how easily Greenland’s agency is sidelined. Greenland is not an empty chessboard square.

It has its own elected government, its own political debates, and its own long-term aspirations – including varying visions of autonomy and eventual independence.

To speak of Greenland purely in terms of minerals, bases and routes is to revert to a nineteenth-century mindset, where territory mattered more than people.

Denmark’s insistence that Greenlanders themselves must decide their future is not only legally correct; it is morally necessary.

In this sense, Copenhagen’s position aligns more closely with contemporary norms than the rhetoric coming from far larger powers.

Nato’s uncomfortable mirror

The Greenland episode also holds up an uncomfortable mirror to Nato. Alliances are tested not when interests align, but when they diverge.

If sovereignty can be questioned within the alliance itself, what credibility remains when Nato lectures others about territorial integrity?

For European states, the implications are sobering.

If a founding member of Nato can be pressured over its territory, then security guarantees begin to look conditional, transactional, and ultimately uncertain.

The Greenland debate therefore resonates far beyond the Arctic; it speaks to the future coherence of Western security architecture.

Power politics, naked once more

The deeper lesson of the Greenland showdown is that we are living through a moment of geopolitical regression.

The language of law, norms and values remains, but it increasingly coexists with – and is often overridden by – the language of power, leverage and acquisition.

This is not unique to one country or one administration.

Across the globe, great powers are testing limits, probing for weakness, and redefining what is permissible. What makes Greenland different is that it involves allies, not rivals.

When even friendly states must brace themselves against coercive rhetoric, the international system has entered a far more brittle phase.

Denmark’s Prime Minister is right to describe this as a decisive moment – not because Denmark stands on the brink of collapse, but because the rules that have governed allied behaviour for decades are being openly questioned.

If Denmark holds firm, backed by European partners and by Greenland’s own democratic voice, it will reaffirm a principle that desperately needs defending: that sovereignty is not for sale, even to friends. If it falters, the precedent will echo far beyond the Arctic.

Conclusion: the rot is systemic

There is nothing rotten in the state of Denmark. What is decaying is the assumption that alliances automatically restrain power.

Greenland has become a symbol of a wider malaise – a world in which strategic impatience is eroding diplomatic taboos, and where even the closest relationships are no longer shielded from coercive imagination.

How Denmark, Greenland, and their partners navigate this moment will tell us much about whether international politics can still be anchored in consent and law – or whether we are sliding inexorably back toward a world where possession, not principle, decides fate.

That is the real tragedy lurking behind the headlines – and it has little to do with Copenhagen, and everything to do with the world beyond it.

* Phar Kim Beng is professor of Asean Studies and director of the Institute of International and Asean Studies, International Islamic University of Malaysia.

** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.