JANUARY 15 — Following the talks between the United States and Denmark over Greenland which saw the two countries having a major disagreement, the world should be prepared for an American acquisition of it. Yet the quest to own Greenland is one that is downright historical too.
Thus, the American fascination with Greenland is neither sudden nor accidental.
It is a long arc of strategic imagination that stretches from nineteenth-century expansionist thought to Cold War military planning and, more recently, to renewed concern over Arctic geopolitics.
To look northward is to see how geography, power, and ideology intersect over time, and how the logic of American expansion has evolved without ever fully disappearing.
In the aftermath of the US acquisition of Alaska, American policymakers began to consider the Arctic not as a frozen periphery but as a space of opportunity.
The ideology of Manifest Destiny, originally tied to continental expansion, subtly migrated northward.
Expansion was no longer only about settlers and farms, but about strategic positioning and future security.
No figure embodied this early Arctic vision more than William H. Seward.
Having orchestrated the Alaska purchase, Seward briefly contemplated Greenland and Iceland as potential additions to the American sphere.
He commissioned surveys and spoke of Greenland’s natural resources and commercial promise. Yet public enthusiasm was lacking.
The United States was not ready to embrace another icy frontier, and Congress had little appetite for further territorial adventures so soon after Alaska.
Even so, the idea never fully vanished.
As the twentieth century unfolded, American strategists increasingly recognized Greenland’s geographical significance.
Sitting between North America and Europe, Greenland occupies a commanding position astride the North Atlantic and the Arctic approaches.
It became clear that whoever controlled or accessed Greenland would hold a strategic advantage in transatlantic movement and northern defence.
The decisive shift came during the Second World War.
When Nazi Germany occupied Denmark, the United States moved swiftly to prevent Greenland from falling into hostile hands. American forces assumed responsibility for its defense, marking the first sustained US military presence on the island.
This wartime experience transformed Greenland from a distant curiosity into a core element of American security planning.
With the onset of the Cold War, Greenland’s importance grew dramatically.
The Soviet Union’s emergence as a nuclear rival forced American planners to rethink global defense in three dimensions, including the Arctic.
Greenland offered proximity to potential flight paths and missile trajectories between Eurasia and North America. It was no longer a remote landmass but a forward shield.
In the early Cold
War years, Washington even attempted to formalize this strategic logic through ownership.
The United States offered Denmark a substantial sum in gold in exchange for Greenland. Copenhagen refused, reaffirming sovereignty while remaining open to cooperation.
This refusal marked a turning point. Rather than seeking ownership, the United States pivoted toward long-term basing rights and defense agreements.
That cooperation produced one of the most important military installations of the Cold War, Thule Air Base, built in the far northwest of the island.
From here, American forces monitored Soviet movements and maintained early-warning systems crucial to nuclear deterrence.
Thule symbolized a new model of power projection, where access and alliance mattered more than sovereignty.
American ambition in Greenland extended even further beneath the ice.
At Camp Century, engineers constructed a vast tunnel complex within the ice sheet.
Officially described as a scientific research station, it secretly tested the feasibility of Project Iceworm, a plan to deploy mobile nuclear missiles under the Arctic ice.
The project was eventually abandoned due to technical and environmental challenges, but it revealed the depth of US willingness to imagine Greenland as an active theater of nuclear strategy.
Over time, Greenland itself changed. Greater self-rule and political consciousness reshaped relations between Greenlandic society and Denmark.
While Copenhagen retained authority over defense and foreign policy, Greenland gained control over internal affairs.
The American presence, meanwhile, became less visible but no less important, embedded within alliance structures rather than colonial ambitions.
In the post-Cold War era, interest in Greenland briefly receded. Yet strategic geography does not disappear with political optimism.
As climate change accelerates ice melt and opens new Arctic routes, Greenland has returned to global attention.
Emerging sea lanes, resource potential, and renewed rivalry among major powers have revived strategic calculations that echo earlier eras.
What distinguishes the present from the past is not the logic of interest but the language used to express it.
Where nineteenth-century leaders spoke openly of destiny and acquisition, modern policymakers emphasize partnership, security cooperation, and respect for sovereignty.
Yet beneath these diplomatic formulations lies a familiar truth: Greenland matters because of where it sits on the map.
To look northward, then, is to understand continuity as much as change.
The United States has repeatedly failed to acquire Greenland, but it has succeeded in securing enduring access and influence.
This reflects a broader transformation in American power, from territorial expansion to networked dominance through alliances, bases, and strategic agreements.
Greenland’s story reminds us that geography exerts a quiet but persistent pull on great powers.
Ice may melt, technologies may evolve, and ideologies may soften, but the Arctic remains a space where security, resources, and global competition converge.
The American gaze toward Greenland has always been about the future, about anticipating threats and opportunities before they fully emerge.
In this sense, looking northward is not an act of nostalgia. It is an expression of strategic foresight rooted in history.
Greenland stands as a testament to how old ideas of expansion adapt to new realities, and how power, once drawn by destiny, is now shaped by necessity, restraint, and enduring geography.
* 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.
