The lasting impact of Trump’s Greenland madness
While Trump’s repeated desire to “take” Greenland has been out of the headlines for a few weeks in the U.S., the issue remains raw and potent in Europe. I want to talk about why.

Let me start with a story.
It was a Friday afternoon north of Copenhagen. I had been Ambassador for less than three months and my mind was overwhelmed by the whirlwind of information coming at me hourly. As a 39-year-old never-before diplomat, there were days that I felt not worthy of the job, that I didn’t know how to do it.
But this day changed something in me.
I was walking our dog Argos and getting some fresh air down the road from the Ambassador’s residence, followed – as always – by my Danish protective detail. November in Denmark is cold and dark, and this day was no different. Argos and I strolled down the narrow sidewalks only to be suddenly approached by an older Danish man. He was probably 65 and casually dressed, appropriate for the seaside village that we lived in – Skovshoved.
He walked right towards me and got close – too close for my security guards who moved in ready to separate us. “This will always be one of the saddest days of my life,” he said in Danish accented English.
“I’ll never forget the devastation on my parents’ faces.”
I tried to make sense of his words. Could he be crazy? Does he think I’m someone else?
“I can’t believe it’s been 50 years. We all lost a little hope that day.”
Doesn’t seem crazy. My mind raced. Fifty years was 11 years before I was born.
“Kennedy was the first leader in any country that I looked up to.”
Oh right. November 22, 2013: 50th anniversary of Kennedy’s assassination, I had seen that earlier today. And I barely remembered.
“Danes will always mourn alongside Americans. I wish you much success in your new job, Ambassador. Welcome to Denmark.”
And he walked away. He never gave me his name. And I don’t think I ever saw him again.
Why does this story stick with me? And what does it have to do with Greenland?
Beyond humbling
Well, stories like this taught me how to do my job. They made me understand that I wasn’t just here to strengthen an already strong bilateral relationship, but there was something so much more than that. I was here in part as a protector of the trust and respect that individual Danes had for the United States and by extension, American people. That job is beyond humbling in its importance and something I took extremely seriously. These were people whose fondness and reverence for the United States sometimes felt greater than my own. I was once told by a Danish man, “I drive by your residence on the way to work every day even though it’s a bit out of my way, so I can salute the Stars and Stripes.”
That brings me to why Greenland matters.
(As an aside, while this piece is focusing on why Trump’s reckless Greenland policy has reverberated across Europe, let me start by saying that the most egregious element of Trump’s threats is the way in which he ignores Greenlandic people, their right to their land and to self-determination. That argument will be a topic for another piece).
When I hear well-intentioned Danish and American politicians and national security experts criticize Trump’s Greenland desires by talking about decades old treaties or the ease of our ability to re-establish American military presence on Greenland by working through the process – all important points that I make as well – this “think-tank speak” misses a larger point. There’s something much more fundamental on the line, something more human.
Anti-American sentiment
Trump’s Greenland rhetoric has inspired anti-American sentiment across Denmark and the continent because it is grounded in fundamental disrespect. He challenges their capabilities, mocks their commitments, dismisses their sacrifice. Something that every other American President publicly valued, and of which Danes are very proud, is how a country of 5.6 million people could consistently “punch far above their weight.”
Trump’s rhetoric and subsequent actions have demolished the trust of Danes and Europeans that we have worked decades to build. So much so that Danes have made preparations to defend its territory from a potential military invasion from its greatest ally on earth. Even writing these words right now still feels unthinkable to me.
But… with all the focus on prime ministers and presidents, they are not the ones who truly matter here. It is the average citizen who sends their teenage kids to study in every corner of the U.S., their young adults who aspire to an elite American University education, their soldiers who dream of serving alongside American troops, their entrepreneurs who look to the U.S. as their dream expansion territory for their young business, and their tourist who invest in a month-long holiday exploring the American west. You can’t walk the streets of Copenhagen without hearing these stories.
From disbelief to anger
Trump and Vance’s visceral disdain for Europe and NATO, best evidenced in the Greenland rhetoric, has sent shockwaves through the parliaments in Europe, but also through the cafes, schools and streets. Danes have gone through various stages of grief over the course of the past year. Disbelief. Shock. Sadness. Anger. Some are boycotting American products. Some are boycotting travel to the U.S. Some are rethinking their investments.
As my inbox floods with comments from folks around the world, some express hope for the midterms, some implore Democrats to fight harder against the “madman” in the White House, some yearn for the past and hope for the future in 2029. And then there are the folks who say, with a mix of anger and sadness, that their trust in the United States of America is gone for good.
If you are an American who loves freedom and democracy and everything we have collectively fought for, that should break your heart. We risk being an adversary or even an enemy of the same people who have fought for and died alongside us.
The world mourned alongside us on 9/11. Danes and the rest of NATO invoked article 5 and sent their young men and women to Afghanistan to defend the United States. Just like in the U.S., many European soldiers enlisted for the mission and many never came home.
I think often about a young American Ambassador walking down the street in Denmark on September 11, 2051.
In 25 years, will that 65-year-old European man stop him and express his sadness and condolence? Or will he just keep walking?

This article was originally published as a blog on Substack. Any opinions expressed in it are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Arctic Today.
Rufus Gifford is an American politician and diplomat who was the chief of protocol of the United States from 2022 to 2023. Between 2013 and 2017, he served as the U.S. ambassador to Denmark.
