Greenland, Fisheries and the Right to Decide: Self-Determination in an Arctic Caught Between Europe and the United States

Greenland is a place of striking contradictions. The world’s largest island covers more than 2.1 million square kilometres, yet is home to only around 56,600 people. Most of its territory is covered by ice, its settlements are separated by vast distances, and its economy remains heavily dependent on fisheries and financial support from Denmark. At the same time, its geographical position, military importance and mineral potential have placed it at the centre of growing international competition.

In January 2026, Donald Trump renewed his campaign to bring Greenland under American control, publishing manipulated images depicting the island as American territory. Although he subsequently ruled out using military force to acquire it, his demands exposed a deeper tension between the strategic ambitions of great powers and the right of Greenlanders to determine their own future. The controversy also revived a question that Europe has confronted before: what happens when a territory’s political status no longer reflects the wishes of its population?

Greenland’s story is therefore more than a dispute over Arctic security. It is a case study in self-determination, constitutional autonomy and the limits of territorial power.

A colonial past that still shapes the present

Greenland’s relationship with Denmark cannot be understood without considering its colonial history. Inuit communities have inhabited the island for centuries, while Norse settlers arrived from Iceland around the end of the first millennium. Modern Danish colonisation began in 1721, when the missionary Hans Egede established a settlement under the authority of the Danish-Norwegian Crown.

Following the separation of Denmark and Norway in 1814, Greenland remained under Danish control. Its constitutional position changed in 1953, when Denmark formally incorporated it into the kingdom, ending its status as a colony under Danish law. Greenlanders became Danish citizens and obtained representation in the Danish parliament. Nevertheless, this constitutional integration did not amount to a transfer of meaningful self-government, nor did it erase the consequences of colonial rule.

The relationship has left a painful legacy. Danish assimilation policies sought to extend Danish language and institutions, while decisions affecting Greenlandic communities were often made without their effective participation. One of the most troubling examples is the contraception scandal, in which Inuit girls and women were fitted with intrauterine devices, in many cases without their informed consent. An independent investigation into contraceptive practices between 1960 and 1991 was published in 2025, bringing renewed attention to the experiences of those affected and to the long-term consequences of decisions taken by public authorities. The University of Greenland’s account of the investigation provides an important starting point for understanding this history.

These events matter to the present debate because self-determination is not merely a question of drawing constitutional boundaries. It also concerns who exercises authority over a population, whose interests public institutions serve, and whether people have a genuine say in decisions affecting their lives.

The European experiment, and the decision to leave

Greenland’s relationship with European integration provides an unusually clear illustration of the distinction between belonging to a state and consenting to its international commitments.

When Denmark joined the European Economic Community (EEC) in 1973, Greenland entered with it, despite opposition among Greenlandic voters. At the time, the island did not possess the home-rule arrangements that would later allow it to pursue a separate relationship with the Community. The experience intensified concerns that decisions about Greenland’s economy and natural resources were being made too far from the people directly affected.

The central issue was fisheries. Fishing remains a cornerstone of Greenland’s economy, employment and exports. Membership of the EEC meant participation in a common fisheries framework that also served the interests of fishing fleets from other European countries. For many Greenlanders, the question was whether European integration offered sufficient benefits to justify surrendering control over such an essential resource.

After Greenland obtained home rule in 1979, it was able to hold its own referendum on continued EEC membership. On 23 February 1982, approximately 52 per cent of voters supported withdrawal. The result was not an outright rejection of cooperation with Europe; rather, it was a rejection of the existing terms of membership.

Greenland eventually left the EEC on 1 February 1985, becoming the first territory to withdraw from the European integration project after the Treaties of Rome had entered into force. The legal change was implemented through the Greenland Treaty, which amended the founding treaties to exclude Greenland from their territorial application. The original treaty is available on EUR-Lex.

Yet withdrawal did not mean complete separation. Greenland became an Overseas Country and Territory (OCT) associated with the European Communities, retaining a special relationship with Europe while remaining outside the Community’s ordinary territorial framework. The arrangement reflected a compromise: Greenland could recover greater control over its affairs without abandoning economic cooperation with its European partners. A separate fisheries agreement helped preserve that relationship. The European Parliament’s research on EU–Greenland fisheries relations explains how the arrangement developed.

This episode offers a valuable lesson for the European Union today. Integration need not always take the form of full membership, and a territory’s relationship with Europe can evolve according to its constitutional status and political preferences. Greenland’s departure also demonstrates that the legitimacy of integration depends not only on economic benefits, but on whether the people concerned believe they have meaningful control over the decisions being made in their name.

Autonomy is not the same as independence

Greenland’s departure from the EEC did not make it an independent state. It remains an autonomous territory within the Kingdom of Denmark, with extensive powers over its internal affairs but with Denmark retaining responsibility for areas including defence and important aspects of foreign policy.

The Self-Government Act of 2009 marked a further step in this constitutional evolution. It explicitly recognises the Greenlandic people as a people under international law with a right to self-determination. Greenlandic became the island’s official language, and Greenland gained greater control over its natural resources and the ability to assume additional areas of responsibility. The Danish legislation setting out the framework establishes a legal route towards independence.

That route, however, is not automatic. Under section 21 of the Act, a decision on independence belongs to the Greenlandic people. If they decide to pursue it, the Greenlandic and Danish governments must negotiate the arrangements. Any agreement requires the consent of Greenland’s parliament, approval in a Greenlandic referendum and the consent of the Danish parliament.

This framework is significant because it recognises Greenlanders as political agents rather than merely inhabitants of a territory administered by another state. It also makes clear that independence must follow a defined constitutional process. Neither Denmark nor an external power can legitimately treat Greenland’s future as a matter to be settled solely through diplomatic bargaining between larger states.

The economic dimension nevertheless complicates the choice. Greenland receives substantial annual financial support from Denmark, which helps sustain public services in a territory where geographical isolation and a small population make infrastructure and service provision particularly costly. Independence would require decisions about public finances, economic diversification and the future relationship with Denmark. Mineral resources may offer opportunities, but extracting them is expensive, environmentally challenging and dependent on investment, infrastructure and market conditions.

The political debate is therefore not simply between independence and continued Danish rule. It is also about timing, economic resilience and the risk that escaping one form of dependence could create another.

The 2025 parliamentary election illustrated these differences. Demokraatit, which favours a gradual path towards independence, won approximately 30 per cent of the vote, while Naleraq, which advocates a faster break with Denmark, came second with around 25 per cent. The election showed broad support for greater self-determination alongside disagreement about how quickly it should be pursued. Crucially, opposition to American control did not disappear in the face of renewed interest from Washington. Reuters’ election report captures this distinction.

Why the Arctic matters to Washington

Greenland’s strategic value long predates Donald Trump. In the nineteenth century, American officials considered expanding the United States’ territorial presence in the Arctic. After the Second World War, the Truman administration explored purchasing Greenland, with American officials citing national security and offering Denmark a financial deal. Denmark did not sell the island, but the United States subsequently secured a lasting military presence through its defence arrangements with Copenhagen.

Today, Greenland remains important to North Atlantic and Arctic security. Its location near the Greenland–Iceland–United Kingdom gap, commonly known as the GIUK gap, makes it strategically significant for monitoring maritime and military movements between the Arctic and the Atlantic. The United States also maintains a military installation at Pituffik Space Base, formerly Thule Air Base, which plays a role in missile warning and space surveillance.

The island’s potential mineral wealth adds another dimension. Greenland has deposits of rare earth elements and other critical raw materials that are important to technologies used in renewable energy, electronics and defence. The European Commission’s Joint Research Centre has estimated that Greenland accounts for close to 10 per cent of global resources of certain rare earth elements, although figures vary according to the minerals included and the distinction between estimated resources and economically recoverable reserves. Such deposits do not automatically translate into commercially viable production: extraction in Greenland faces substantial logistical, environmental and financial obstacles.

Nevertheless, the strategic context is clear. China has a dominant position in the processing and supply chains of many rare earth elements, prompting the United States and the EU to seek more diversified sources of critical materials. Greenland could form part of that effort, but its resources cannot be treated as a geopolitical prize detached from the rights and preferences of its population.

Climate change adds a further complication. Retreating sea ice is increasing interest in Arctic shipping routes, including the Northern Sea Route along Russia’s coast and the Northwest Passage through the Canadian Arctic. These routes may shorten some journeys between the Atlantic and Pacific, although seasonal ice, infrastructure limitations, environmental risks and uncertain commercial conditions remain significant constraints. Greenland’s position gives it importance in the wider Arctic transport network, but claims that any route will become entirely ice-free or commercially dominant by a fixed date should be treated cautiously. The European Parliament’s analysis of the Arctic geopolitical contest explores these emerging pressures.

For Washington, Greenland is therefore simultaneously a security asset, a potential source of critical minerals and a territory situated near future trade routes. But strategic interest, however substantial, does not confer sovereignty.

The European Union’s constitutional dilemma

Greenland occupies a peculiar position within Europe’s legal order. It is not part of the EU, yet Greenlanders are Danish nationals and therefore citizens of the European Union. The European Commission describes Greenland as an autonomous territory within the Kingdom of Denmark and an OCT associated with the Union. Its relationship with the EU includes development support and cooperation in areas such as education, sustainable growth and critical raw materials. For the 2021–2027 period, €225 million has been allocated specifically to Greenland under the EU’s OCT arrangements. The Commission’s Greenland partnership page sets out the current framework.

This status demonstrates that European citizenship, the territorial application of EU law and membership of the Union are related but distinct legal questions. Greenland’s experience also shows that European integration has to accommodate constitutional arrangements that do not fit neatly into the conventional categories of member state and third country.

The challenge is now more immediate. The EU has an interest in Arctic stability, secure supply chains and the preservation of international law. Denmark is a member state, but Greenland has its own government and a recognised right to self-determination. A credible European response must respect both the constitutional relationship between Greenland and Denmark and the political agency of Greenlanders themselves.

That means avoiding the assumption that Greenland’s future should be decided by outsiders, even when those outsiders are allies. It also means treating the island as more than a strategic location on a map. Greenlanders have their own history, language, institutions and political priorities; they are not simply the population of a territory to be transferred from one power to another.

The fundamental principle is straightforward: security concerns can justify cooperation, investment and negotiated defence arrangements, but they do not, by themselves, justify territorial acquisition without consent. The right of self-determination cannot be meaningful if the people concerned are free to choose only when their choice aligns with the interests of larger states.

A test for Europe

Greenland’s future remains open. It may deepen its autonomy, move gradually towards independence or develop new forms of cooperation with Denmark, Europe and other partners. Each option involves difficult political and economic choices, and none can be determined solely by the island’s mineral deposits or military geography.

The European Union has an opportunity to demonstrate that its commitment to international law and self-determination extends beyond its borders. This requires practical engagement with Greenland’s elected institutions, support for sustainable economic development and respect for the island’s choices about its constitutional future. It also requires acknowledging Europe’s own complicated history with Greenland, including the unequal arrangements that contributed to its departure from the EEC in 1985.

Nearly four decades after that withdrawal, Greenland once again finds itself at the centre of a debate about who should control its resources and determine its future. The circumstances have changed, but the underlying question has not. In an increasingly competitive Arctic, the greatest test for Europe may not be whether it can match the ambitions of the United States or China, but whether it can defend a principle it claims to uphold: that the future of a people belongs, first and foremost, to that people.

Greenland left the European Community in order to exercise greater control over its affairs. The lesson of its history is that this control cannot be secured simply by changing its constitutional status. It must also be respected by the powers that surround it.