TEHRAN — The tariff threat issued by US President Donald Trump over Greenland represents a profound rupture in the logic of the transatlantic relationship. It is not merely an economic measure, nor even a diplomatic provocation, but a demonstration of how far Washington is willing to go to impose its will on its closest allies.

By tying punitive tariffs to the demand that Denmark and its European partners negotiate the “Complete and Total purchase of Greenland,” the Trump administration has transformed a routine NATO-aligned security exercise into a geopolitical confrontation. The escalation is so disproportionate that it reveals something deeper than a policy disagreement: it exposes the asymmetry of power that has defined the transatlantic order for decades, and the extent to which Europe remains structurally dependent on the United States.

The rhetoric surrounding the announcement is itself revealing. Trump framed the situation in apocalyptic terms, claiming that only the United States can prevent China and Russia from “taking” Greenland and describing European participation in a joint exercise as a threat to the “Safety, Security, and Survival of our Planet.” This language is not the language of diplomacy; it is the language of justification, designed to inflate an event into a pretext for coercive action. 

Europe’s response has been unified but fundamentally defensive. The joint statement issued by the UK, Denmark, Finland, France, the Netherlands, Norway, and Sweden warns that the U.S. threat risks a “dangerous downward spiral” and “undermines transatlantic relations.” The language is strong, but it reflects Europe’s limited leverage. European leaders can condemn the move, but they cannot prevent it. They can express solidarity with Denmark and Greenland, but they cannot force Washington to respect existing trade agreements. Even the UK, historically the most aligned with the United States, has been compelled to publicly criticize the decision, acknowledging that applying tariffs on allies for participating in NATO exercises is fundamentally wrong. Yet these statements, however forceful, do not alter the underlying reality: Europe is reacting to American decisions, not shaping them.

The deeper issue is that Europe’s vulnerability is not accidental. It is the product of decades of strategic dependence on the United States.

NATO’s architecture places Washington at the center of European security, and European governments have consistently underinvested in their own defense capabilities. As a result, when the United States chooses to reinterpret an Arctic exercise as a provocation, Europe has no independent security framework through which to respond. The continent’s economic ties to the U.S. further complicate the situation. The European Union is America’s largest trading partner, and the U.S. knows that tariff threats will generate immediate political pressure within European capitals. The fact that a handful of European officers arriving in Greenland for a training exercise can trigger a transatlantic economic crisis demonstrates how asymmetrical the relationship has become.

The Greenland episode also reveals the extent to which the U.S. administration is willing to use economic coercion to pursue geopolitical ambitions that have little grounding in international norms. The idea of “acquiring” Greenland has circulated in Washington before, but using tariffs to force Denmark and its allies into negotiations crosses into a new realm of pressure politics. The United States is effectively attempting to use its economic power to alter the territorial status of a European kingdom. This is not a negotiation between equals; it is an attempt to impose a strategic vision on a region that does not belong to the United States.

Europe’s leaders have attempted to frame their response in terms of sovereignty and international law. They insist that Greenland’s status is not up for negotiation and that the joint exercises pose no threat to anyone. But these assertions highlight Europe’s defensive posture. The continent is attempting to reassure the United States that it has done nothing wrong, rather than asserting its right to conduct security operations without American approval. Even the European Union’s strongest statements — that the tariffs would undermine transatlantic relations and that Europe will remain united — reveal a bloc that is more concerned with preserving the relationship than with challenging the imbalance within it.

The crisis also exposes the fragility of the economic agreements that underpin transatlantic trade. The United States already has frameworks capping tariffs with both the EU and the UK, yet it is unclear whether the new tariffs would override those agreements. The uncertainty itself is destabilizing. It signals that the U.S. is willing to disregard existing commitments when they become inconvenient, and that Europe cannot rely on the stability of agreements it once considered foundational. This unpredictability is precisely what European leaders mean when they warn of a “dangerous downward spiral.”

The broader implications are significant. If the United States is willing to impose tariffs on its closest allies over a symbolic territorial ambition, then the entire postwar transatlantic order is at risk. 

Presently, the Greenland tariff threat is more than a diplomatic dispute. It is a demonstration of power — and of powerlessness. The United States has shown that it can unilaterally escalate tensions, impose economic costs, and demand concessions. Europe has shown that it can object, but not prevent. The episode underscores a lesson Europe has long avoided: dependence on the United States is not a guarantee of stability but a source of vulnerability. Until Europe develops genuine strategic autonomy, it will continue to be shocked each time Washington reminds it who holds the leverage.