A Fateful Choice: Arctic politics in March
Greenland votes, Russia plots, China recalibrates
In Greenland, running an election requires logistical finesse. The island is home to just under 57,000 people - the equivalent of, in American terms, the population of Nevada's Carson City, but spread out across a landmass three times the size of Texas. With fewer than 0.03 people per km2, Greenland ranks as the least densely populated country on the planet. And while around a third of all Greenlanders live in the capital city, Nuuk, the island’s sweeping coastlines are dotted with dozens of small towns and settlements. None of those communities are connected by road or rail, however, and many are only accessible by helicopter, speedboat or dog sled. This makes them hard to reach for public services, including ballot deliveries. In the lead-up to Greenland’s 2018 election, for instance, the residents of the northern town of Savissivik didn't receive their voting slips in time because of bad weather. A hunter on dog sled and an air base official heroically intervened to collect residents’ votes in time for them to be taken into account.
Quo vadis, Groenlandia?
So when Greenlanders headed to the polls on March 11, in a snap parliamentary election called in early February, the Electoral Commission of Greenland came under immense pressure to get things right. Among U.S. President Trump’s cascading threats of annexation and military subjugation, long-standing efforts to seek amends for Greenland’s colonial past, and efforts to achieve formal statehood, the Greenlandic election was unanimously perceived as - in the words of Prime Minister Múte Egede - a “fateful choice” for the island.
Image: Protesters march to the U.S. Consulate in Nuuk on March 14, 2025 (Source: Free Malaysia Today, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Greenland’s outgoing government coalition was led by Egede’s Inuit Ataqatigiit (I.A.), a socialist, green and pro-independence party. In 2021, I.A. had come first in a national election by harnessing widespread public opposition to mining projects in the south of the island. I.A.’s coalition partner, Siumut, is Greenland’s historically dominant social democratic party. It lost its hold on government four years ago when it threw its weight behind the controversial mining plans. But Greenland’s main political cleavage has not historically run along environmental lines. Rather, the island’s parties are divided on how the island can achieve independence from Denmark under the 2009 Greenland Self-Rule Act.
Ahead of the 11 March election, the question of when and how to break with Denmark acquired new urgency. In his New Year’s address, Prime Minister Egede rebuffed Trump's offers for Greenland to become a part of the United States. He then suggested that his government could pursue independence on an accelerated timeline, hinting at a possible referendum in conjunction with parliamentary elections scheduled for spring. But under the impact of Trump’s increasingly perspicuous overtures, Egede by late January rolled back his government’s drive for quick independence - and instead appeared to seek out improved relations with Copenhagen.
Following this move, Egede’s government was rocked by prominent defections, most notably of Aki-Matilda Høegh-Dam, Siumut’s representative in the Danish parliament. Høegh-Dam is a popular advocate of Greenlandic independence. Last October, she caused a stir in Denmark by refusing to live-translate a parliamentary speech held entirely in Greenlandic. The Folketinget’s rulebook would technically have required such a translation. But Høegh-Dam dismissed this rule as an outdated, colonial and racist imposition.
After Egede’s turn on the independence timeline, Høegh-Dam ditched Siumut to join forces with Naleraq - a nationalist-populist opposition party favouring quick independence and greater foreign policy cooperation with the United States (although it mistrusts Trump). Siumut’s leader, Erik Jensen, subsequently tried to mend fences with Høegh-Dam by announcing his support for an immediate activation of the §21 “independence clause” of the Greenland Self-Government Act. But the damage to the government coalition was already done. I.A. and Siumut’s stance on independence now looked incoherent at the most decisive moment of the election campaign.
In the early hours of ballot counting on 12 March, Naleraq initially appeared set for a landslide victory. But as Marc Lanteigne recounts in his write-up of the election, the opposition Demokraatit party gradually nudged past Naleraq towards the late afternoon. By the evening, Demokratiit had claimed 30% (10/31 seats) of the votes, and was awarded a mandate to negotiate a government coalition. Naleraq trailed behind at 24.5% (8 seats). The historically dominant Siumut dropped to a record low of 14.9% (4 seats), which led chairman Erik Jensen to resign from his post. I.A. were reduced to 21% (7 seats), and the centrist, formerly unionist Atassut gained 7% (2 seats).
The election winners, Demokratiit, are a moderate social-liberal party. Having advocated for Greenland’s continued membership in the Danish Realm in the past, Demokratiit experienced a change of heart: The party now wants a measured transition to independence, but also ensure that stable economic foundations are in place before self-determination procedures are triggered. A rash break with Denmark could leave Greenland economically underprepared for statehood. This could, in turn, make the island even more vulnerable to outside coercion. Paradoxically, the desired end goal of independence might therefore best be obtained by thwarting any attempts to achieve it quickly - at least according to Demokratiit. This position appealed to the more risk-averse parts of the Greenlandic electorate. But the election result should - in the words of Naleraq parlementarian Kuno Fencker - equally be interpreted as a reaction to domestic concerns over “business, fisheries, pensions, livelihoods and healthcare”.
On 12 March, Demokratiit’s chairman, Jens-Frederik Nielsen, swiftly announced the start of coalition talks involving all other parties. Nielsen stressed the need for national unity during a moment of crisis. Two days later, all five of Greenland’s parliamentary parties released a joint statement, in which they condemned Trump’s annexation plans and called for a closing of ranks. The parties then started their negotiations for a national unity government. After ten days of negotiations, Nielsen on 24 March announced that Naleraq had abandoned the talks. While all five parties had found much common ground, they remained divided on when to activate §21 - with Naleraq insisting on an immediate launch of independence procedures, whereas other parties preferred to proceed with caution.
Hours before an uninvited visit by U.S. vice president JD Vance (which was condemned as a “provocation” and “unacceptable pressure” by the Greenlandic and Danish Prime Ministers), Demokratiit, Siumut, I.A. and Atassut announced their successful conclusion of a four-party government coalition. The new coalition will account for 75% of the total electorate and prioritise broad representation over partisan divides on independence timetables.
A comprehensive review of the coalition agreement was published by Sermitsiaq, one of Greenland’s two national newspapers. The new government foresees a gradual progression towards independence, a renegotiation of relations with the Danish state, and sustainable and growth-oriented economic policies with a focus on attracting foreign capital and intensified mining efforts. In the foreign and security policy realm, the coalition wants to reaffirm its commitment to the Western alliance, while also rebuffing foreign encroachments on its fledgling independence. However, the new government also acknowledges that Greenland’s “large geography and small population mean that [it needs] international cooperation to maintain sovereignty.”
These lines were likely addressed at the American president, whose threats to Greenland have not abated in the slightest. Different members of Trump’s administration have, however, lately diverged on the specifics of how to “get” Greenland. While Trump has consistently, and with little discrimination, threatened to subjugate Greenland by force if necessary, his Vice-President JD Vance has come to pitch a more subtle approach.
On 29 March, Vance spoke to U.S. military personnel at the Pituffik Space Base. While he unsurprisingly berated Denmark for being a “bad ally”, Vance also affirmed Greenland’s right to self-determination. Having faced protests by Greenlanders against his visit, the Vice-President scaled back the threatening language employed by Trump, and ruled out any immediate expansion of the U.S. military presence in Greenland (the U.S. currently retains only one of its 17 historical bases on the island). On the issue of Greenlandic sovereignty, Vance signaled the U.S.’ encouragement for the island to seek independence - but likely only for it to join the United States after, out of its own “free will”. Although Vance played down the likelihood of immediate military coercion, he remained deliberately vague on whether the threat or use of force could be used to bring a newly independent Greenland to heel.
Video: JD Vance’s remarks to military personnel at the Pituffik Space Base, 29 March (Source: YouTube)
Vance’s approach is likely driven by three interlinked objectives: By allowing for Greenland to seek independence before strong-arming it into closer ties with the U.S., the Vice-President could avoid breaking international and domestic legal constraints on the use of force, while also increasing the U.S. security oversight on the island and fulfilling - in his own words - “the president’s desires.”
The success of Vance’s approach will probably hinge on Trump’s continued goodwill. Within the administration, Vance has emerged as the main backseat driver on foreign policy issues. While his assertiveness has served the Vice-President well until now, he may at some point come to overstep one of Trump’s political boundaries. Should Vance be asked to step back from the Greenland portfolio, the U.S.’ military threats to the island could quickly grow louder.
We're living in Putin’s world
In Russia, official reactions to Trump’s position on Greenland provided a fascinating case study: they have laid bare two contradictory strands in contemporary Russian foreign policy.
On the one hand, Russia’s diplomatic establishment is hard-wired to promote a deeply sovereigntist reading of the U.N. Charter. Russia never tires of reminding the rest of the world that the U.N. system was co-created by the Soviet Union. Moscow is keen to preserve this system as a monument to its previous superpower status, as well as its bygone ability to shape the structure of the international order. Russia’s demonstratively orthodox interpretation of basic Charter principles, such as the non-interference rule, is certainly hypocritical. But it aligns with that of China, and has permitted Moscow to rally against the “rules-based order” and other alternative concepts promoted by the West. Violations of international legal principles by NATO states have also regularly been cited by Russia in defence of its own, and typically more egregious breaches - from South Ossetia and Abkhazia, to the annexation of Crimea, and even the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
On the other hand, Putin has also spent much of the past three years elaborating an alternative, and much more sombre vision for the international system - one rooted not in international law, but in neo-imperial revanchism, 19th century concepts of great power politics, zones of influence, sovereignty as an exclusive prerogative of large, nuclear-armed states, and preemptive force as a legitimate tool in the pursuit of national interests. This vision stands in contradiction of the very principles of the U.N. Charter that Russian diplomats so frequently cite.
Image: Vladimir Putin speaks at the International Arctic Forum in Murmansk, 27 March (Source: Free Malaysia Today, CC BY-SA 4.0)
In an exercise of postmodern bricolage, and depending on the audience and objectives at play, Russian officials flip-flop between two mutually exclusive portrayals of their country: One as a conservative bulwark against the erosion of the U.N. system by “liberal imperialism”, and one of a a revanchist empire crusading against sovereign equality. This two-faced approach has also characterised Russian reactions to Trump’s threats against Greenland.
In January, Kremlin speaker Dmitry Peskov pointed to Greenland as an internal matter of Denmark and the United States, calling for the “self-determination” of Greenlanders to be respected. Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs echoed this interpretation later that month, adding that “[…] international law is not selective and is not the ‘right of the strong,’ and its norms are binding on everyone.” In March, Leonid Slutsky, the head of the State Duma Committee on International Affairs and leader of Russia’s hyper-nationalist ‘Liberal Democratic Party’, proclaimed that “the people of Greenland should resolve any issues of territorial affiliation themselves”, and that “the right of nations to self-determination is guaranteed by the U.N. Charter and must be accompanied by compliance with international law”.
On the other hand, the leader of ‘A Just Russia’, Sergei Mironov, in February called for Norway’s Svalbard archipelago to be renamed ‘Pomorsk Islands’, and the Arctic Ocean to be rebaptised ‘Russian Arctic Ocean’ - all ostensibly in the spirit of Trump’s expansionist designs on Greenland and Canada. And Putin himself, in late March, gave a nod to the “long historical roots” of America’s interest in the island. The Russian president compared Trump’s efforts to Andrew Jackson’s 1868 purchase of Alaska, which, in his words, was “ridiculed at the time” but is “probably viewed very differently in the United States today.” Putin warned against dismissing Trump’s plans as “preposterous talk by the new U.S. administration.”
The latter remarks likely point to the actual nature of Russia’s interest in Greenland - which is not material, but abstract. In spite of Trump’s and Vance’s vague talk of “Russian ships” near Greenland's shores, Russia’s military interest in the island is limited - and would not change much after a hypothetical U.S. takeover. The GIUK gap - a naval choke point in the North Atlantic, which constrains the area of operation of Russia’s Northern Fleet - would remain in the hands of actors hostile to Moscow under any conceivable scenario. Russia also has no direct stake in the disputes over shipping rights in the Northwest Passage. Unlike China, it lacks the wherewithal and interest to become involved in business ventures on Greenland. And while Russia would reflexively oppose any expansion of the U.S.’ military activity on Greenland, this opposition would be embedded in its wider Arctic military posture - which remains defensive on balance.
A U.S. takeover of Greenland could therefore only be advantageous to Moscow for a less practical reason: If ordered in breach of international law, it would upend the U.S.’ commitment to legal safeguards against territorial expansionism. After its annexation of Crimea, the Kremlin presented flawed legal justifications for its actions. Russia’s annexations of Ukraine’s Donetsk, Kherson, Luhansk, and Zaporizhzhia oblasts in late 2022 were, on the other hand, more overtly imperialistic.
Putin assumed that other nations might initially oppose the annexations, but that they would ultimately accept them as irreversible—along with a reshaped global order where great powers are entitled to gradually encroach on the territories of smaller countries within their ‘historical spheres of influence.’ By replicating Putin’s approach, Washington would provide legitimacy to Russia’s conquests in Ukraine in hindsight - as was implicitly pointed out by Dmitry Peskov in January.
Russia’s Arctic elites between Riyadh and Murmansk
Aside from the Greenland question, Moscow and Washington reportedly also found common ground on other Arctic issues during their talks on the war in Ukraine, which were held in in Riyadh last month. On 12 March, the head of the Russian Direct Investment Fund, Kirill Dmitriev, first let slip that the two sides’ delegates in Saudi Arabia had discussed potential joint projects in the Arctic. While Russia craves sanctions relief for its Arctic oil and gas sites, Vedomosti cautioned that the U.S. might be interested in “weakening Russia’s ties with China” by replacing Beijing as Russia’s major Arctic business partner. The Kremlin on 12 March confirmed that talks on the Arctic had indeed occurred in Riyadh. On the same day, the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a statement that Russia was “ready to cooperate on Arctic issues” as well as a “normalisation of Arctic Council work.” Russian oil and gas experts, on the other hand, dismissed the idea of joint Arctic energy development between Russian and American companies as “unsubstantiated rumours.”
Meanwhile, Russia’s Arctic policy elite descended on the International Arctic Forum, a high profile talkshop held in Murmansk at the end of March. In a video message, Morten Høglund, the Chairman of the Senior Arctic Officials Committee, graced the Russian audience with reserved niceties, which was much in keeping with Norway’s efforts to keep Russia involved in Arctic cooperation. In a droning speech, president Putin spoke of Russia’s intention to develop the Arctic economy - but refrained from making any more concrete announcements. Nikolay Patrushev, the head of Russia’s Maritime Collegium, ambitiously declared Russia the sole arbiter of Arctic globalisation. Patrushev then philosophised about the strategic value of the Northern Sea Route in “escaping maritime blockades imposed by the West in the Baltic and Black Seas.” Russia’s Deputy Prime Minister, Yuriy Trutnev, mused that the International Arctic Forum could become an alternative platform to replace the paralysed Arctic Council. And Andriy Chibis, the governor of Murmansk, spoke of Russia’s need for more Arctic partnerships - both with “friendly countries”, but also - in the future - possibly the Western states.
Among the “potential Arctic partners” for Moscow, India stood out as the most coveted: Maxim Dankin, the Director General of Russia’s Arctic Development Project Office, gave an interview to TASS in which he described India’s interests in the Arctic as being rooted in “climate change, energy and shipbuilding.” Dankin also announced that scientific cooperation between Russia and India in the Arctic would be expanded. Russia’s ambassador to India spoke of his belief the India’s presence in the Arctic could be a “stabilising factor” for the region. And Anurag Bisen, a prolific Indian expert on Arctic security, discussed India’s rising interest in Russian rare earths and metals.
Will China revise its Arctic strategy?
But while India’s delegates commanded much media attention, as well as much room on the conference stage, China’s delegates at the Forum played only a comparatively marginal role. On the one hand, this may be due to China’s diminishing appetite for Arctic policy adventures. But on the other hand, China's silence in Murmansk may also have been a consequence of Russia’s growing unease over China’s Arctic ambitions.
Hong Kong’s South China Morning Post on 16 March reported that China would soon revise its official Arctic policy, probably in light of the foreseeable U.S.-Russia “rapprochement”. China’s first Arctic policy white paper, which was published in 2018, sparked a backlash among Arctic states - the paper defined China as a “near-Arctic state”, outlined ambitious plans for the “Polar Silk Route”, and claimed a greater role for China in the future of Arctic governance. Following hefty criticism from the Arctic states, Beijing rowed back - and has since mostly focused on scientific diplomacy in the region, but also naval exercises with Russia and container shipping projects. A revision of China’s Arctic policy strategy would thus be overdue, in order to reflect the country’s altered strategic outlook.
Reactions in the Russian media to the SCMP article were mostly benevolent: Vedomosti welcomed the possibility of a revised Chinese Arctic strategy, arguing that the assertiveness of the white paper had upset even China's Russian partners. But in a comment on president Trump’s recent promise that Washington would “order 48 icebreakers”, Russian expert Pavel Ivankin penned an op-ed for an official government portal, in which he grouped the “USA, Canada and China” together as states that could pose a strategic challenge to Russia in the Arctic, due mostly to their advanced icebreaker capabilities.
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