Denmark’s Arctic Command announced an invitation to the United States to take part in upcoming military exercises in Greenland, underscoring NATO’s renewed focus on the High North. Soren Andersen, commander of the Danish Arctic Command, said the United States had been invited “of course” as a NATO member and a close ally while speaking aboard a Danish naval vessel in Nuuk. France and Germany have already dispatched dozens of personnel to prepare the ground for the drills, but Washington has not yet committed forces.
The announcement comes against the backdrop of lingering political sensitivity over Greenland’s status. The autonomous island is formally part of the Kingdom of Denmark, but it has been the object of sustained strategic interest — most recently from Donald Trump, who publicly mused about buying Greenland and famously derided the island’s defences as “two dogs pulling a sled.” The White House has said that European deployments in Greenland would not affect Mr. Trump’s past stated interest in the territory.
Greenland’s importance goes well beyond symbolism. The island’s location gives any power that can project presence there control over air and sea approaches to the North American and European continents, and it hosts critical infrastructure such as early-warning and space-tracking facilities. Melting ice and longer shipping seasons are drawing greater attention from NATO members, Moscow and Beijing, all of whom are expanding their Arctic postures. For Denmark, shoring up military capability in Greenland is both a security priority and a signal of stewardship to allies.
Inviting the United States serves multiple purposes: it reassures under-resourced Greenlanders and domestic critics that NATO will help defend the territory; it cements transatlantic cooperation in a theatre where European members are increasingly active; and it sends a deterrent message to potential competitors. At the same time, the exercise invitation navigates delicate diplomatic terrain. Greenlandic autonomy, the political sensitivities around past U.S. rhetoric, and broader debates about the militarisation of the Arctic mean that any visible expansion of foreign military presence will carry political as well as strategic consequences.
Denmark has been upfront about the trade-offs. Copenhagen points to nearly 90 billion Danish kroner (about €12 billion) invested to strengthen its Arctic military posture, a sum meant to modernise bases, improve surveillance and harden logistics. In the short term, NATO drills in Greenland are likely to be more about signalling and interoperability than about large permanent troop deployments, but they will nevertheless accelerate operational activity in the region and raise the diplomatic stakes among Arctic stakeholders.
The invitation to Washington is therefore both practical and political: practical because allied interoperability matters in an environment of faster ships and new domains of contestation; political because it clarifies that Greenland remains part of NATO’s security perimeter. How the United States responds — whether with a visible troop presence, limited participation, or a symbolic nod — will be watched closely as a barometer of U.S. interest in Arctic defense and of transatlantic unity in a rapidly changing polar theatre.
