Former President, Donald J Trump – part-time politician, full-time real estate visionary – has once again set his gilded sights on the frozen frontier of Greenland, writes Vince Hooper.
IN THE ANNALS OF MODERN GEOPOLITICS, few ideas rival the comedic brilliance of a certain orange – soon to be green? – tinted mogul’s Arctic escapades.
Yes, dear readers, former President, Donald J Trump – part-time politician, full-time real estate visionary – has once again set his gilded sights on the frozen frontier of Greenland.
Why settle for a golden penthouse atop a Manhattan skyscraper when you can own an entire island, complete with glaciers, polar bears, and an untapped trove of minerals ripe for a Trump-branded drilling operation?
‘Make Greenland great again’
The exclamation echoes across Truth Social, as though Greenland’s 57,000 residents have been lying in wait for their American saviour to liberate them from centuries of quiet autonomy.
The art of the frozen deal
In true Trumpian fashion, the pitch is as absurd as it is audacious.
The man who brought you the casino bankruptcy playbook and a wall that Mexico didn’t quite pay for is now courting Denmark with the subtlety of a golden wrecking ball.
His proposed negotiation tactics? A heady mix of military bluster, economic bullying, and the occasional late-night tweetstorm.
“Denmark should be honoured to sell us Greenland,” Trump declared, presumably mistaking the Kingdom for a struggling landlord eager to offload underperforming assets.
And, if the Danes resist? Trump has floated tariffs on Danish pastries — because, let’s face it, nothing strikes fear into Copenhagen like a ban on exporting flaky desserts to the U.S.
Of course, the rationale is “national security”. Never mind that Greenland’s strategic value is already well recognised by NATO and EU, or that the U.S. has an airbase on the island.
Trump sees Greenland as the ultimate geopolitical fixer-upper: part mineral-rich wonderland, part snowy stage for his next reality show, and wholly available to bear his name in gold lettering visible from orbit.
The Cold War redux: Trump edition
This isn’t the first time the U.S. has cast longing eyes toward Greenland.
The purchase was floated as early as 1867 and nearly came to fruition in 1946 when the U.S. offered Denmark $100 million for the island. Denmark declined, likely bewildered by the concept of selling sovereign land like it was beachfront property.
But unlike his predecessors, Trump is convinced he can seal the deal where others have failed.
After all, “nobody knows real estate better than me” he insists, likely envisioning Trump-branded golf courses nestled among the icebergs.
Greenland: The 52nd state no one asked for
The pièce de résistance of this frozen folly?
Trump’s assertion that Greenland’s residents will “benefit tremendously” from U.S. annexation.
While he has yet to elaborate on what those benefits might entail – perhaps a Trump University campus in Nuuk? – the locals remain unconvinced. (Canada will be 51st!)
Meanwhile, Denmark has been polite but firm: Greenland is not for sale. Period.
Their response, though diplomatic, carries the unmistakable undertone of disbelief – as though they’re collectively wondering if this is all an elaborate episode of Saturday Night Live.
The branding frenzy
Trump’s dreams of Arctic conquest wouldn’t be complete without his signature branding obsession.
Imagine “Trump Fjord Resorts” — offering luxury igloos with gold-plated sleds.
Or, a “Winter White House” featuring a golf course carved into the glaciers.
Greenland could become the ultimate billboard for the Trump empire, its ice sheets gleaming with his logo — visible from space and perfectly lit for a prime-time reality TV series.
Environmental irony
Here’s the kicker: Trump’s climate change denial colliding headfirst with his Greenland ambitions.
Melting glaciers? Perfect for beachfront property development!
Rising sea levels? A minor inconvenience for his Arctic vision.
In Trump’s mind, Greenland’s environmental crisis isn’t a catastrophe — it’s a golden opportunity to turn permafrost into prime real estate.
What do the locals think?
Greenlanders, naturally, have their own opinions. Imagine sled dog protests with signs reading “Not For Sale”, or emergency town meetings debating how to respond to an influx of Trump-branded souvenirs.
One can only wonder how the Inuits feel about the prospect of fast food chains like Trump Steaks replacing traditional cuisine or the Aurora Borealis competing with neon Trump signs.
Denmark’s counteroffer
Denmark’s polite refusal could easily evolve into satirical rebuttals.
Why not propose trading Greenland for Florida? “We’ll take your swamps and theme parks if you take the Arctic” they might joke.
Or better yet, offer Trump a Danish crown-shaped timeshare as a consolation prize.
Pop culture meets policy
This entire saga feels like a surreal blend of geopolitics and reality TV. One imagines Trump mistaking Greenland for Elsa’s kingdom in Frozen — or pitching a new reality series called “The Real Ice Lords of Greenland”.
The U.N., meanwhile, could host a comedy convention where world leaders perform stand-up routines about this “deal of the century”.
A legacy in ice
Could this be Trump’s grand legacy?
Future history books might detail “Trump’s Arctic Vision” alongside a timeline of failed international ventures — each one more absurd than the last.
As the ice caps melt and the world faces existential challenges, Trump’s frozen fantasy is both a distraction and a metaphor.
While others grapple with the realities of climate change, he dreams of erecting a gilded tower on melting permafrost.
So here’s to Greenland, standing resilient against the tide of absurdity. May its ice sheets remain unbranded, its sovereignty intact, and its pastries tariff-free.
Trump is not joking though!
Vince Hooper is a proud Australian/British citizen who is professor of finance and discipline head at SP Jain School of Global Management with campuses in London, Dubai, Mumbai, Singapore and Sydney.
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