How President Trump’s demand to acquire Greenland transformed the 2026 World Economic Forum into an emergency diplomatic summit
The 2026 World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, was intended to focus on artificial intelligence, economic growth, and climate change under the theme of “A Spirit of Dialogue.” Instead, it became the stage for one of the most significant transatlantic crises in NATO’s history. President Donald Trump’s demands to take over Greenland transformed the annual gathering of the global elite into an emergency diplomatic summit, as European leaders scrambled to respond to an unprecedented challenge from their most important ally.
The immediate catalyst was Trump’s January 18 announcement of 10% tariffs on eight NATO members—Denmark, Norway, Sweden, France, Germany, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, and Finland—set to take effect February 1, escalating to 25% by June if these nations continued to resist his territorial ambitions. Trump said in a post on social media that American ownership of the Arctic island is “imperative” for national and world security, declaring “there can be no going back.”
What made the crisis particularly jarring was its timing and method. Trump’s tariff announcement came in direct response to these countries sending small military contingents to Greenland for joint exercises with Denmark. Trump interpreted the deployments as a provocation, and announced new 10% tariffs on all goods from the eight nations that sent troops. The message was clear: opposition to American territorial expansion would carry economic consequences.
Trump’s approach to diplomacy in the lead-up to Davos broke multiple conventions. In an extraordinary breach of diplomatic protocol, he publicly shared what appeared to be private text messages from French President Emmanuel Macron and NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte on his Truth Social platform.
Macron told Trump, “I do not understand what you are doing on Greenland,” while offering to convene a Group of Seven meeting in Paris. The French president’s message, confirmed as authentic by sources close to him, revealed both confusion and an attempt to find common ground, suggesting discussions that could include Ukrainian, Danish, Syrian, and Russian representatives.
Rutte’s message was more conciliatory, with the NATO chief writing that he was “committed to finding a way forward on Greenland” while praising Trump’s recent actions in Syria. The publication of these private diplomatic exchanges was itself a power move, demonstrating Trump’s willingness to weaponize transparency against allies seeking to manage the crisis quietly.
Trump went further, posting an AI-generated image showing himself planting an American flag on Greenland next to a sign reading “Greenland: U.S. Territory EST 2026,” flanked by Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio. The visual was a clear statement of intent that sent shockwaves through European capitals.
Perhaps most tellingly, Trump linked his aggressive stance to personal grievances. In a text message to Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre, he stated that “considering your country decided not to give me the Nobel Peace Prize for having stopped eight wars plus, I no longer feel an obligation to think purely of peace.”
European leaders arrived in Davos with carefully calibrated responses that sought to balance firmness with continued engagement. Their speeches, delivered in the hours before Trump’s scheduled Wednesday address, represented a coordinated pushback unprecedented in recent transatlantic relations.
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen delivered perhaps the most strategically important response. She called Trump’s tariff threats a “mistake especially between long-standing allies” and vowed that Europe’s response would be “unflinching, united and proportional”. Critically, she reminded Trump of the July 2025 trade deal between the U.S. and EU, pointedly noting that “in politics as in business, a deal is a deal.”
Von der Leyen’s speech was notable for its dual message. While condemning the tariff threats, she emphasized that Europe shares U.S. objectives regarding Arctic security and is prepared to ramp up spending and protective measures in Greenland. She announced plans for a “massive European investment surge” in the territory, attempting to address American security concerns without conceding on sovereignty.
The speech also outlined a vision of “European independence” that extended beyond the immediate crisis. Von der Leyen highlighted the recent EU-Mercosur trade deal and announced upcoming negotiations with India, which she called “the mother of all deals.” The message was clear: Europe would diversify its economic partnerships and reduce dependence on the United States if necessary.
French President Emmanuel Macron, wearing aviator sunglasses throughout his address due to a burst blood vessel in his eye, delivered a more confrontational message. He described Trump’s policies as ones that “undermine European export interests, demand maximum concessions and openly aim to weaken and subordinate Europe, combined with an endless accumulation of new tariffs that are fundamentally unacceptable”.
Macron’s rhetoric escalated beyond trade policy. He said Europe would not submit to “bullies” and preferred “the rule of law to brutality”, declaring that industries like chemicals and automotive were “being literally killed by the lack of respect for a normal framework and level playing field.”
Behind the public posturing, French officials were preparing concrete responses. Sources indicated that Macron was considering activation of the EU’s Anti-Coercion Instrument, which could restrict U.S. companies’ ability to operate in European markets, exclude American suppliers from EU public tenders, and place limits on foreign direct investment.
Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney offered perhaps the most intellectually sophisticated critique, drawing on the writings of dissident Czech playwright Václav Havel. Carney argued that middle powers have gone along with the fiction of a rules-based order that no longer protects them, comparing it to Soviet-era shopkeepers placing Communist slogans in their windows to avoid trouble.
His central argument was blunt: America as a superpower no longer delivered the benefits—open sea lanes, a stable financial system, collective security—that had justified the post-World War II order. Countries needed to “take their signs down” and stop pretending the system still functioned. The speech received a standing ovation, signaling broad resonance among the assembled global elite.
Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, speaking to her parliament rather than in Davos (Denmark notably declined to send representatives to the forum), called Trump’s threats a “dark chapter” in transatlantic relations. She vowed that Europe would stand its ground, stating “if anyone starts a trade war against us, which I really cannot recommend, we must of course respond”.
Greenland’s Prime Minister Jens-Frederik Nielsen emphasized that Western countries should be united by respect for territorial integrity and international law, making clear that the territory’s self-governing status under Danish sovereignty was non-negotiable.
The most scathing public criticism of European responses came not from Trump himself, but from California Governor Gavin Newsom, a likely Democratic presidential contender who attended Davos. Newsom urged European leaders to “wake up” and stop “rolling over” to Trump, saying “Have some spine”.
His central argument was that traditional diplomacy—”saying one thing privately and saying another publicly”—would not work with Trump. Newsom likened Trump to a Tyrannosaurus rex: “You mate with him or he devours you. One or the other, and you need to stand up to it”. He criticized what he called “knee-pad diplomacy,” even suggesting he should have brought knee pads to Davos to distribute to European leaders.
Newsom’s intervention highlighted a broader American political debate about how democracies should respond to Trump’s transactional, confrontational approach to alliances. His argument—that only strength, not accommodation, would be respected—represented a view shared by some Republicans and Democrats alike, even as they disagreed on Trump’s policies.
The Greenland crisis did not emerge in isolation. It represented the culmination of a year of Trump’s second term characterized by an aggressive reassertion of American power and a fundamental questioning of existing international structures.
Trump had recently authorized military action in Venezuela, moving beyond rhetoric to kinetic operations that reminded European allies of American military reach. The operation, while focused on the Western Hemisphere, underscored Trump’s willingness to use force to achieve geopolitical objectives.
Adding to European anxieties was Trump’s planned “Board of Peace” initiative, scheduled to be formally announced at Davos on Thursday. A draft charter obtained by journalists indicated that permanent membership would cost $1 billion, with Trump serving as permanent chair even after his presidency. The document suggested the board would serve as “a more nimble and effective international peace-building body,” language that many interpreted as positioning it as a rival to the United Nations.
The initiative faced significant resistance. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom either declined invitations or remained noncommittal. Fewer than 10 leaders had accepted, including several considered anti-democratic authoritarians. The lack of support from major European partners threatened to make the announcement embarrassing for the administration.
The forum took place as negotiations over Ukraine’s future intensified. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky had initially planned to attend Davos to potentially meet Trump and sign new security guarantees as part of a ceasefire deal with Russia. His last-minute cancellation added uncertainty to already complex diplomatic dynamics.
The presence of Trump’s largest-ever Davos delegation—including Secretary of State Marco Rubio, special envoy Steve Witkoff, and son-in-law Jared Kushner, all key to Ukraine negotiations—suggested that major announcements might still come from the summit. European leaders feared being sidelined from decisions about their own continent’s security architecture.
The tensions had immediate economic consequences. Trump’s ramped-up rhetoric sparked a sell-off of global assets on Tuesday and raised questions about the resurgence of the “sell America trade” that had appeared following his earlier tariff announcements.
European stock markets opened lower Wednesday morning as Trump prepared to speak, with the pan-European Stoxx 600 down nearly 0.2%. The uncertainty extended beyond equities to currencies and bonds, as investors grappled with the possibility of a genuine trade war between the world’s two largest economic blocs.
The economic risks were substantial. Trump’s proposed tariffs on eight European countries, starting at 10% and potentially rising to 25%, would significantly increase costs and slow growth on both sides of the Atlantic. This came as the White House was simultaneously trying to address domestic concerns about affordability, with about six in 10 Americans saying Trump had hurt the cost of living, according to recent polling.
The contradiction was stark: Trump traveled to Davos planning to unveil “some of the most aggressive housing reforms in American history,” attempting to address voter concerns about affordability. Yet his tariff threats risked undermining the very economic stability needed to make housing more affordable.
Perhaps most significantly, the crisis put the future of NATO itself in question. Trump has refused to rule out the possibility of leaving NATO in order to carry out his Greenland ambitions, though the legal pathway for such a move remained murky.
The irony was profound. NATO was founded on the principle of collective defense—an attack on one is an attack on all. Now its leading member was threatening economic warfare against allies who refused to acquiesce to territorial demands. Eight countries issued a joint statement saying Trump’s actions over Greenland risk a “dangerous downward spiral” and undermine transatlantic relations, representing one of the most strongly worded messages to Washington in recent memory.
NATO Secretary-General Rutte found himself in an impossible position: trying to maintain alliance cohesion while his largest member openly challenged the sovereignty of a member state. His conciliatory messages to Trump, later made public, revealed the delicate balancing act required.
Understanding Trump’s approach requires examining his stated rationale for pursuing Greenland. He consistently framed the demand as a matter of national security, arguing that the Arctic island’s strategic location makes it vulnerable to Chinese and Russian influence. A 1951 defense agreement already grants the U.S. military access to Greenland, but Trump considered this insufficient.
There was strategic logic to the concern. Climate change is opening Arctic shipping routes and making resource extraction more feasible. China has declared itself a “near-Arctic state” and invested heavily in the region. Russia maintains significant military infrastructure along its Arctic coast. From this perspective, American control of Greenland would secure a crucial geographic position in an emerging zone of great power competition.
However, Trump’s methods—public demands, tariff threats, refusal to rule out military force—were unprecedented among democratic allies in the post-World War II era. The approach suggested either a fundamental misunderstanding of how alliances function or a deliberate decision that such norms no longer served American interests.
Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, speaking to reporters in Davos, insisted that it would be “very unwise” for European governments to retaliate and dismissed suggestions that Trump’s Nobel Prize grievance was motivating his stance. Yet Trump’s own public statements undermined that defense.
The physical setting of Davos—a Swiss Alpine resort town where chalets cost millions—added another layer of complexity to the drama. Trump arrived with the largest American delegation in the forum’s history, occupying two buildings including a prominent church venue. The symbolism was unmistakable: America would not simply participate in the global economic forum; it would dominate it.
Anticipatory anxiety became increasingly palpable as world leaders converged on the town for what is almost certainly going to turn into a fundamental reassessment of the existing international system. The usual Davos dynamics—business leaders networking, policymakers debating, activists protesting—were overshadowed by the bilateral tensions in the Congress Centre’s hallways.
The attendance itself told a story. Denmark declined to send representatives, making a clear statement about the unacceptability of negotiating under threats. Zelensky’s last-minute cancellation suggested Ukrainian calculations about where the real decisions would be made. China sent Vice-Premier He Lifeng rather than President Xi Jinping, maintaining distance from the Western drama while monitoring developments closely.
The fundamental question emerging from Davos 2026 was whether the transatlantic tensions represented a temporary crisis that would be resolved through negotiation or a structural fracture in the Western alliance.
Several scenarios appeared possible:
Negotiated Resolution: European leaders hoped that intensive diplomacy at Davos could find a face-saving compromise. This might involve increased European investment in Greenland’s infrastructure and security, enhanced NATO presence in the Arctic, and possibly some symbolic American role, all while maintaining Danish sovereignty. Von der Leyen’s speech laid groundwork for such an approach.
Economic Conflict: If Trump followed through with tariffs and Europe retaliated using its Anti-Coercion Instrument or other tools, a genuine trade war could develop. This would have profound consequences for global supply chains, economic growth, and the rules-based trading system.
Alliance Reformation: The crisis might accelerate European strategic autonomy, with EU members increasing defense spending, deepening internal cooperation, and developing independent capabilities. This was clearly von der Leyen’s preference, as evidenced by her emphasis on “European independence.”
American Realignment: Some Trump advisers appeared to view NATO as an anachronism, arguing that great power competition with China required fundamentally different alliance structures. The Board of Peace initiative, whatever its immediate focus, might represent an attempt to build alternative international institutions under American leadership.
As Trump prepared to deliver his Wednesday address, several critical questions remained unanswered:
Would Trump moderate his demands in person, or would he double down? His public statements suggested the latter, but Davos had historically been a venue where he sought to reassure business leaders and allies.
Could European unity hold if the crisis escalated? The coordinated speeches from von der Leyen, Macron, and Carney suggested a common front, but individual countries faced different pressures and had varying dependencies on U.S. markets and security guarantees.
What role would other global powers play? China had remained largely silent, but any U.S.-European split would create opportunities for Beijing to expand influence. Russia’s potential involvement in Ukraine negotiations added another dimension of complexity.
How would American domestic politics shape Trump’s calculus? With midterm elections approaching and polling showing concerns about affordability, would Trump prioritize foreign policy confrontation or economic stability at home?
The 2026 Davos summit represented a potential inflection point in post-World War II international order. Trump’s address would test whether he still sees value in reassuring allies or whether he now intends to formalize a doctrine of coercion, using tariffs and threats of territorial acquisition to bend partners to American will.
For European leaders, the challenge was existential. They faced a choice between accommodation—accepting a fundamentally altered relationship with their security guarantor—or resistance, which carried its own profound risks. Democratic governors including Gavin Newsom accused world leaders of failing to stand up to Trump, warning Europeans: “You mate with him or he devours you”.
The traditional Davos agenda—artificial intelligence, climate change, economic growth—continued in parallel sessions. But the real drama played out in bilateral meetings, hallway conversations, and public speeches that would shape the international system for years to come.
What made the crisis particularly profound was its challenge to foundational principles. The rules-based international order, whatever its flaws, rested on the idea that disputes between democracies would be resolved through diplomacy rather than economic coercion, that sovereignty of allies would be respected, that might alone would not make right.
Trump’s Greenland gambit questioned all of these assumptions. His approach suggested that in a world of intensifying great power competition, the United States would pursue its perceived interests through whatever means necessary, allied relationships notwithstanding. Whether this represented clear-eyed realism about changed global conditions or a catastrophic abandonment of the very principles that had made American leadership acceptable to other democracies remained the central debate.
As the assembled global elite awaited Trump’s remarks, they confronted a fundamental uncertainty: Was this the birth of a new, more coercive American hegemony, or the beginning of the end of American leadership of the Western world? The answer would determine not just the fate of Greenland, but the architecture of international relations for decades to come.