On a boat, surrounded by snow-covered mountains and icebergs in shades of blue, Qooqu Berthelsen points to the breaking sea ice as a worrisome sign.

Now, though, something is worrying him and many Greenlanders as much as the retreating ice that endangers their livelihood.

“My concern,” says the 23-year-old hunter, fisher and tour company owner, “is that Trump will come and take Greenland.”

He then repeats what has become a mantra for Greenlanders in the weeks since U.S. President Donald Trump pushed their Arctic homeland into the spotlight by threatening to take it over. That has ignited unprecedented interest in full independence from Denmark — a key issue in a parliamentary election on March 11.

“Greenlanders don’t want to be Danish. Greenlanders don’t want to be American,” Berthelsen says.

“Greenland,” he says, “is not for sale.”

It’s a rising argument about a strategic location

You’ll hear this declared all over the land, from the prime minister and university students in Nuuk, the world’s northernmost capital, to hunters and fishermen in sparsely populated villages across the planet’s largest island. This is, after all, Kalaallit Nunaat — Greenlandic for the “Land of the People” or the “Land of the Greenlanders.”

Most of those 57,000 Greenlanders are Indigenous Inuit. They take pride in a culture and traditions that have helped them survive for centuries in exceptionally rugged conditions. In their close link to nature. In belonging to one of the most beautiful, remote, untouched places on Earth.

Many in this semi-autonomous territory are worried and offended by Trump’s threats to seize control of their mineral-rich homeland, even by force, because he says the U.S. needs it “for national security.”

“How can a few words … change the whole world?” asked Aqqaluk Lynge, a former president of the Inuit Circumpolar Council and founder of the Inuit Ataqatigiit party, which governs Greenland. “It can because he’s playing with fire. We’re seeing another United States here with whole new ideas and wishes.”

Greenland is vital to the world, though much of the world may not realize it. The U.S and other global powers covet its strategic location in the Arctic; its valuable rare earth minerals trapped under the ice needed for telecommunications; its billions of barrels of oil; its potential for shipping and trade routes as that ice keeps retreating because of climate change.

Not even one of Trump’s most fervent fans in Greenland — who proudly wears a MAGA hat, and a T-shirt emblazoned with Trump pumping his fist and the words: “American Badass” — wants to be American.

But like other Greenlanders, he wants stronger ties to the U.S. and to open for business beyond Denmark, which colonized them 300 years ago and still exercises control over foreign and defense policy.

“When Trump came to office, he wanted to talk to Greenlanders directly without going through Denmark. He wants to negotiate with us and that’s why the Danish are very afraid,” said Jørgen Boassen, who has visited the White House and welcomed Donald Trump Jr. when he recently visited Nuuk.

The American president’s comments set off a political crisis in Denmark. The prime minister went on a tour of European capitals to garner support, saying the continent faced “a more uncertain reality,” while her country moved to strengthen its military presence around Greenland.

There’s consternation all around

For some, it’s been dizzying, a rollercoaster of emotions since Trump’s threats, since his son landed in Nuuk in January in a TRUMP-emblazoned plane and since his father posted on social media: “MAKE GREENLAND GREAT AGAIN!” with a message to Greenlanders: “We’re going to treat you well.”

“When that was happening, I felt like I was hit in the stomach,” said Qupanuk Olsen, a mining engineer and social media influencer running in the election for the Naleraq party.

Around her, supporters gathered at a bay filled with giant pieces of ice in Nuuk waving the red and white national flag that represents the sun and the ice that covers most of Greenland.

“I could feel that the ground will no longer ever be the same again,” she said. “It’s as if we were on sea ice and it started to break, and we don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

Journalists from afar have descended on Nuuk, asking locals what they think of Trump’s words. Pro-Trump media influencers known as the Nelk Boys arrived handing out MAGA hats and $100 bills to children in Nuuk’s streets.

“Even though there are strong feelings of sadness, despair, confusion, I think we’re also stronger than ever. We’re fighting it for our people and that gives me hope,” said Aka Hansen, an Inuk filmmaker and writer. She is suspicious of Trump’s intentions but still thanks him for turning the world’s attention to her homeland.

“We went through all the emotions — at first very funny, very light, then very serious,” said Hansen, who worked with Conan O’Brien when the comedian came to Nuuk in 2019 to shoot an episode poking fun at Trump’s idea of buying Greenland. “Now, with all the international press that’s been here, we’ve been given a voice that’s being taken seriously.”

Like many other Greenlanders, she doesn’t want to be ruled by another colonial power. But she feels Trump’s rhetoric has increased the momentum for independence from Denmark.

The former colonial ruler is accused of committing abuses against her island’s Inuit people, including removing children from their families in the 1950s with the excuse of integrating them into Danish society and fitting women with intrauterine contraceptive devices in the 1960s and 1970s — allegedly to limit population growth in Greenland.

“It’s a historic moment for Greenland ... compared to two months ago when nobody was talking about independence,” Olsen said. “Now, everybody’s talking about it.”

Is autonomy the way?

A former colony of Denmark, Greenland gained self-rule in 1979 and now runs itself through its parliament. A treaty with the United States, and a U.S. military base in Greenland, also gives Washington say over the territory’s defense.

Greenland is massive — about one-fifth the size of the United States or three times the size of Texas. Its land mass is in North America, and its Arctic capital city is closer to New York than to Copenhagen.

“Denmark is just a middle man in that whole setup. And we don’t need that middle man anymore,” said Juno Berthelsen, a candidate in the election for Naleraq party. He says Trump has given Greenland leverage to negotiate with Denmark. “Our political goal is to have our own defense agreement, so that we connect directly with the U.S. in terms of defense and security.”

His party, he said, aims to invoke an article in a law that would give Greenland increased autonomy and eventually a path to full independence.

Asked to describe Greenland’s moment, he said: “If I had to pick one word, it would be exciting. And full of opportunities.”

In his first term in office, Trump began to talk about acquiring Greenland from Denmark, a longtime U.S. ally. Back in 2019, most dismissed it. But it had a ripple effect.

“It was not taken that seriously back then as it is today. But it was important for Greenland because he, without wanting, did Greenlanders a favor,” said Ebbe Volquardsen, a professor of cultural history at the University of Greenland. “He underlined the value of being in a union with Greenland.”

Greenland’s strategic value draws US interest

Rich in rare-earth minerals and strategically located as a gateway to the Arctic, the Danish territory has attracted the threat of U.S. annexation by President Donald Trump.

Greenland’s economy depends on fisheries and other industries as well as on an annual grant of about $600 million from Denmark. When Trump showed interest in buying Greenland because of its strategic location and mineral resources, he highlighted that annual sum as the amount of what other nations would be willing to pay to have a military or commercial presence in Greenland, Volquardsen said. With that, he gave Greenland leverage for more autonomy and possible reparations for abuses committed by its former colonial ruler.

“That was important because the narrative in Denmark until that date … had been that Greenland is receiving this funding as a kind of aid or altruistic gift,” Volquardsen, said.

Greenland awaits the next steps — of others

Life in Nuuk seemed to go on as usual in mid-February, except for a “heat wave.” After weeks of subzero temperatures, it made the capital of Greenland several degrees hotter than Washington, D.C., the U.S. capital.

Large chunks of powder blue ice were blown by winds, blocking boats on the harbor and creating a spectacle for residents who snapped photos under the pink light of a sunset. Some nights, the sky was lit up by spectacular streaks of green and other colors from the northern lights.

You could almost forget that Greenland has become ground zero for a geopolitical showdown — if, that is, you ignored the front pages of local newspapers featuring images of Trump and the ticker tape in downtown with his name and the Greenlandic word “Amerikamiut.”

On a frigid day, a group of kindergarteners in fluorescent vests walked in line behind their teacher as they crossed a road covered in ice and snow. A few blocks away, teenagers played hockey on a frozen pond.

On a hill next to a statue of the Danish-Norwegian missionary who founded the city in 1721, bells tolled, and a recently married couple laughed as family members threw rice on them for good fortune outside Nuuk’s wooden Lutheran cathedral. More than 90% of Greenlanders identify as Lutherans.

After the wedding ceremony, guests converged at their home for a “Kaffemik,” a traditional celebratory gathering where they share coffee and baked goods.

Some Greenlanders say they felt safe while being largely unknown to the world. Now, though, that feeling has dissipated.

Sitting with her husband at a dinner table filled with families chatting and laughing, Tukumminnguaq Olsen Lyberth, said the wave of attention and polarizing comments prompted some friends to delete Facebook accounts.

“We’re not use to having this big attention about us, so it’s overwhelming. Before, no one knew about us. Now, it’s a blitz of attention,” said Olsen Lyberth, 37, a cultural history student at the University of Greenland.

“I feel like this is the longest January,” she said jokingly — in February. “It’s all of it. Everything feels too overwhelming.”

Source: AP

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