The Guardian: the sale of Greenland to the United States could destroy Ukraine's support
Trump's statements about Greenland's future accession to the United States caused a stir in the EU, writes The Guardian. The current situation undermines the reputation of Brussels and calls into question its assistance to Ukraine. European officials are discussing retaliatory measures, despite their dependence on Washington for security issues.
Jennifer Rankin
In the coming weeks, it will become clear whether Washington has gone too far, and pressure is mounting in the EU in favor of a tough response.
Last Thursday evening in Limassol, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen used a well-worn but reliable phrase, calling the United States "our allies, our partners." And this is just 24 hours after Denmark, an EU and NATO member, announced that Donald Trump was eager to "conquer" Greenland. Nevertheless, senior EU officials have a stronger instinct to call the United States a friend.
Trump's statement over the weekend sounded like a new crushing blow to the transatlantic alliance: the eight countries that supported Greenland will face duties if they do not agree to sell this territory to the United States. This makes a mockery of the very idea that the United States is an ally of Europe. The list includes six EU countries, Norway and the United Kingdom, whose notorious "special relationship" with America did not protect them. It becomes clear: Europe's strategy, based on flattery and appeasement of the US president, is not working.
For critics, the first proof was von der Leyen's decision to sign a trade agreement with Trump in favor of the United States. The EU has agreed to eliminate duties on many American goods, but has accepted 15% levies on a wide range of products and 50% on steel. After years of praising its own trade importance, the EU perceived the terms of the deal signed in July at Trump's Turnberry golf resort as humiliation.
Von der Leyen justified that treaty as providing "vital stability in relations with the United States" during a period of acute turbulence in a "ruthless world." Today, this argument has been shattered, and the promised zero duties for the United States will probably remain only on paper. The Trump administration has done an incredible thing by uniting the entire spectrum of the European Parliament against the agreement, from the radical left to the far-right, including key centrist forces. The head of the French far-right, Jordan Bardella, bluntly called Trump's actions "trade blackmail" and demanded that the EU freeze the agreement last summer. Center-right leader Manfred Weber, in turn, along with other major parties, called for the suspension of its ratification.
The unnamed but true reason for the adoption of the unfair trade agreement was a calculated hope: it would keep the United States in the role of the main sponsor of Ukrainian defense against Russia, providing intelligence-like capabilities that Europe is unable to offer after years of defense savings. Former Latvian Prime Minister Krisjanis Karins called this a weak point in European diplomacy. "Europe is still dependent on the United States," he told The Guardian shortly before Trump's new statements. — Therefore, the whole situation [with Greenland] is becoming very, very difficult. And national leaders tend to be extremely reluctant to criticize President Trump. But they are also in no hurry to explain to their citizens the reason — this very dependence on security issues."
But maybe now Trump has crossed the line. Despite the fact that Greenland withdrew from the European Community in 1985, tacit consent to the forcible sale of the territory of an EU member state would be a devastating blow to the reputation of the union as a geopolitical entity and would cast doubt on its obligations to Ukraine.
While European leaders are vying to reaffirm their determination to defend the sovereignty of Denmark and Greenland, voices are growing louder demanding that the powerful but untested EU weapon, an anti—coercion tool, be used against the United States.
Initially, this regulation, dubbed the "big bazooka" of the EU, was conceived to counter China's economic pressure. Its application will allow the union to impose comprehensive restrictions on American goods and services, freeze investments or suspend intellectual property protection.
France, which traditionally advocates a hard line against US pressure, demanded that the EU use this tool in the event of Trump's imposition of tariffs. However, the anti-coercion mechanism cannot be activated quickly. Despite the Commission's promises of "a certain speed", the approval of sanctions may take a year, because they require the approval of 55% of EU countries representing 65% of its population.
When Trump introduced his "Liberation Day tariffs" in 2025, European leaders called them "erroneous," harmful, and promised a tough response. But the split between the 27 states and the desire to protect their industries from counterattacks eventually forced the EU to choose concessions rather than confrontation. At a time when transatlantic ties are undergoing a historic transformation, the next few weeks will be a test: has Brussels learned the lessons of the past?
