Trump’s Greenland obsession turns Davos into a test of Europe’s resolve

January 21, 2026 - 19:57

TEHRAN — President Donald Trump’s appearance at the World Economic Forum in Davos on Wednesday was a display of geopolitical brinkmanship, delivered with the swagger of a leader who treats alliances as leverage rather than partnerships. 


His renewed insistence on acquiring Greenland—an idea long dismissed in Europe as unserious—was presented with a mix of bluster, threat, and self-congratulation that left many leaders stunned.

Trump reiterated his desire to take control of what he repeatedly called “a giant piece of ice,” at one point confusing Greenland with Iceland. The slip was emblematic of a speech that veered between improvisation and intimidation. He told the assembled heads of state that the United States could seize the Danish territory by force, if necessary, before congratulating himself for choosing not to. “We probably won’t get anything unless I decide to use excessive strength and force,” he said, adding that the U.S. would be “unstoppable.” His assurance that he “won’t use force” did little to calm European nerves.

What unsettled leaders most was not the theatrics but the underlying message: Trump views Greenland not as a sovereign territory but as a commodity to be extracted from America’s allies. His framing—“You can say yes… or you can say no, and we will remember”—was a thinly veiled threat aimed at NATO partners already alarmed by Washington’s escalating tariff rhetoric.

European leaders have already condemned his desire to control Greenland. Nonetheless, their outrage also reveals a deeper problem: Europe’s persistent strategic dependence on the United States. Speaking in Davos on Tuesday, French President Emmanuel Macron warned of a “world without rules,” and others spoke of coercion and intimidation. Yet Europe’s ability to push back remains limited. Decades of underinvestment in defense, reliance on U.S. security guarantees, and deep economic interdependence have left the continent vulnerable to exactly the kind of pressure Trump is now applying. Their indignation may be justified, but it is also a reminder of how little leverage they possess when Washington decides to act unilaterally.

Trump’s provocations fit a broader pattern. He has circulated doctored images declaring Greenland “U.S. Territory Est. 2026,” threatened sweeping tariffs on eight European countries, and even suggested that Norway’s refusal to award him a Nobel Prize factored into his Greenland stance. These gestures, unserious on their face, carry serious consequences: they erode trust, undermine NATO cohesion, and reduce complex diplomatic relationships to transactional ultimatums.

At Davos, Europe arrived prepared to discuss global challenges. Instead, it found itself reacting to a U.S. president who treats diplomacy as spectacle and sovereignty as negotiable. Trump’s Greenland fixation may never materialize into policy, but the episode exposed something more enduring: a transatlantic relationship in which Europe’s dependence leaves it vulnerable, and Trump is more than willing to exploit that weakness.