
Attempt to conquer Greenland at your peril
The U.S. president has not been subtle about his goals for the Arctic: “We’ll go as far as we have to go” to acquire Greenland, he stated while sitting behind the Resolute desk in the Oval Office. The desk, made from the British Arctic exploring vessel called the H.M.S. Resolute, is itself a reminder of the northern voyages of empire builders — the type of pursuit the President is after. “We need Greenland,” he declared. “And the world needs us to have Greenland.”
The president and his allies are obsessed with the island’s rare earth minerals, strategic location, and shipping routes. Obtaining Greenland is part of the administration’s two-part strategy to expand American influence over the North. The other part, which has also attracted sustained attention, is the president’s oft-stated desire to make Canada the 51st state. These wishes fly in the face of the opinions of residents in both Canada and Greenland, who share the belief that the northern borders of the United States should remain where they are.
When Vice President JD Vance descended from Air Force Two on his recent trip to northwest Greenland, he quipped that no one had warned him it would be so cold. (It was minus 3 Fahrenheit when he landed.) Before they dig open-pit mines or disturb the fragile politics of the Arctic, would-be expansionists may want to study up on its climes, cultures, and history — specifically how earlier profit-seekers fared when trying to claim northern lands.
From the turn of the first millennium through the 17th century, Europeans saw profits in the Arctic, first in Greenland and, later, in Canada.
Soon after establishing a colony in Iceland in the late ninth century, Norse explorers (also known as Vikings) set their sights on Greenland, even though it was occupied by Indigenous Inuit. With no formal treaties in place, the Norse built two small communities on Greenland’s shores where they would have direct access to walrus, whose ivory and tough hides were in demand. They imported livestock from Scandinavian herds to supplement their diets, though sustaining such animals was difficult during Greenland’s long winters. Still, the lure of walrus pushed them to stay. Unlike the Inuit, who harvested only what they needed, the Norse exploited the resource unsustainably, overhunting the walrus and jeopardizing their own economic foundation.
Just as troubling, the Norse failed to build cooperative relationships with the Inuit. The Norse called them “skraelings” — wretches — and, according to the sagas, initiated violence. The Inuit resisted, including launching a raid in 1379 that killed 18 Norse, a blow for the small immigrant population. More devasting was the onset of the Little Ice Age, which began to lower temperatures in the 14th century by as much as 3.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Longer and colder winters produced ice that clogged fjords for much of the year, making travel between Norway and Greenland more difficult. This cool period lasted until the 19th century.
By the time Columbus sailed west at the end of the 15th century spawning an era when Europeans pillaged and extracted wealth from the Western Hemisphere in the form of gold, silver, and sugar produced by enslaved peoples, the Norse communities in Greenland had all but disappeared. That did not mean Europeans abandoned the North. Instead, monarchs laid claim to lands eyed by explorers they funded.
By the 16th century, the Canadian Arctic became valuable more for its geography than its resources, especially to the English. During the long reign of Queen Elizabeth I (1558 to 1603) and in the years that followed, many Britons dreamed about finding the Northwest Passage, a water route through modern Canada they hoped would provide a quicker journey to the coveted spices of the Southwest Pacific. They also dreamed of territorial expansion. But time after time, they experienced disappointment.
American political and business leaders who aim to acquire and develop Greenland or annex Canada should recall history’s warnings.
In the mid-1570s, the explorer Martin Frobisher led three journeys into the Canadian Arctic. He hoped at first to find the passage but changed his plans when he came to believe that there was gold to be mined in Nunavut, present-day Canada’s northernmost territory. In 1578, Frobisher proudly arrived home in England with 200 tons of rocks he was sure would make him rich. It was fake news. Britons used them to pave roads.
Still, English explorers continued to look for the passage. The most famous among them was Henry Hudson, the man whose name covers more square miles of water on earth than anyone else — the Hudson River, Hudson’s Bay, and Hudson Strait. In 1610, the year after Hudson sailed up the river that now bears his name and, by European reckoning, “discovered” the territory that is now New York, he tried again to find the Northwest Passage. In November, the expedition became frozen in the ice of James Bay. Day after day of darkness and cold eroded any loyalty the trapped crew may have had for their captain.
When the spring thaw finally came in mid-June 1611, one-half of the crew mutinied. They put Hudson, his teenage son, and his allies on a small rowboat. The rebels unfurled the sails of the ship and sailed for home, leaving Hudson and his team to die. There is no record of the victims ever being seen again.
Like the Norse, these English explorers did not know how to establish positive relations with the Indigenous peoples they met. Britons thought, incorrectly, that Inuit, Crees, and other Native peoples of the north Atlantic and Canada were “savages” who engaged in cannibalism. They could not look past their disdain to learn how communities could thrive in this climate. Unlike the newcomers, Inuit knew how to extract enough resources for their needs without undermining the fragile ecology of the far North. The Europeans’ arrogance and ignorance led them to suffer the cold without benefit of local techniques for survival. Many of them never got home. No one during the early modern Age of Discovery ever found the Northwest Passage. It does exist, but it is global warming, not Europeans’ penchant for grand exploration and plunder, that now allows ships to move through it.
American political and business leaders who aim to acquire and develop Greenland or annex Canada should recall history’s warnings.
Temperatures are warmer these days, but those winter nights are still cold, dark, and long, the kinds of conditions that may inspire mutiny. Also, the history of modern resource extraction presents other problems. Lead and zinc mines dug in the 1970s near Greenland’s coasts produced dangerous pollutants that still threaten residents. Drilling for oil poses dangerous problems for both ecosystems and human communities across the Arctic. The risk of ecological castrophe looms over a region where environmental conditions preserve, rather than diminish, industrial accidents. And the warming of our world will have permanent consequences for the environment in the North and far beyond.
Even beyond the global risk, one lesson from history seems clear: Ignoring the views of residents of colder regions may open a path toward disaster.
Peter C. Mancall, Distinguished Professor, Andrew W. Mellon Professor of the Humanities, Linda and Harlan Martens Director of the Early Modern Studies Institute and professor of history, anthropology, and economics at USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences, is the author of Fatal Journey: The Final Expedition of Henry Hudson — A Tale of Mutiny and Murder in the Arctic.
Note: This story was originally published on Zócalo Public Square. It is republished here with permission.