Trump's offer to buy Greenland was treated as a tongue-in-cheek joke by friends and foes alike. But it was never as crazy as his critics claimed.
This week, it became a real political possibility.
That doesn't mean it's a sure bet.
But it could—and should—actually happen. 🧵
Back in 2019, when Trump first proposed to buy Greenland, the Prime Minister of Denmark—which currently owns Greenland—called it "absurd."
This week, Greenland announced their intent to pursue independence from Denmark. The PM says the process has "already begun."
Now, to be clear, Greenland's political leadership has maintained that they aren't interested in being acquired—at least for now.
Last month, Greenland's PM insisted that "we are not for sale and will never be for sale." (Although he didn't specifically mention Trump's offer).
But despite its natural resources, Greenland’s economy is fragile—heavily dependent on fishing and grants from Denmark.
If they break from Denmark, they'll need new economic partnerships—and frankly, new benefactors. Joining our sphere of influence makes a great deal of sense.
The U.S. has an extraordinarily powerful set of carrots and sticks, in this context—if we opt to use them. If we decide we're all-in on purchasing Greenland, it would be hard to stop us.
And from our perspective, the idea isn't as out-there as some people might think.
U.S. territorial expansion isn't ancient history. It's continued well into the modern era—including quite recently.
Just over a year ago, we gained roughly 386,000 square miles—more than two Californias—of maritime territory in the largest expansion since the Alaska Purchase.
In terms of land mass, our most recent expansion was in 1947, with the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands. After WWII, the UN placed the Pacific Islands under U.S. administration, adding new territory to the U.S. sphere of influence. (Though the arrangement ended in 1994).
America's major expansions—The Louisiana Purchase (1803), Alaska Purchase (1867), and Virgin Islands Purchase (1917)—were all criticized as foolish when they were proposed.
Alaska was famously panned as "Seward's Folly." Today, it's one of our most strategically vital states.
America was built by a restless, expansionist spirit—if we allow it to stagnate, we lose a key part of ourselves.
And there are good reasons to expand to Greenland:
• Strategic location for military defense
• Vast natural resources
• Control of vital Arctic shipping lanes
Greenland sits at a critical chokepoint between America and Europe. It's essential for missile defense and naval operations.
China knows this. They've repeatedly tried to build airports and research stations in Greenland—and even attempted to buy a former U.S. naval base there.
Greenland has some of the largest rare earth deposits outside China. These minerals are crucial for everything from smartphones to fighter jets.
Right now, China controls 80% of global rare earth production. Greenland could at least start to help us level the playing field.
The numbers are staggering. Greenland has:
• 38.5 million tons of rare earth oxides
• Massive uranium deposits
• Vast oil and gas reserves
• Precious metals
• Some of the world's largest fresh water reserves
And all of this will only become more accessible as ice melts.
Finally: Shipping lanes.
As Arctic ice recedes, new trade routes are opening up.
Whoever controls Greenland will have enormous influence over these new maritime highways. (That's why China is aggressively seeking to expand its foothold in the region).
As for the "not for sale" thing—that has preceded almost every major territorial acquisition in U.S. history.
Napoleon initially saw Louisiana as part of a broader plan to rebuild France's empire in the New World. Just a few years later, he sold it to the U.S. for $15 million.
For years, Russian officials insisted Alaska was an integral part of the Russian Empire—until it wasn't.
Denmark initially refused to sell the Virgin Islands, despite early negotiations beginning in 1865. By 1917, strategic and financial pressures led to a $25 million deal.
Trump's proposal was a serious idea—and it's even more serious today than it was when he first proposed it. Expansion is a time-honored American tradition. (In a fundamental sense, it's the essence of the American ethos itself).
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These are Trump's best approval numbers ever. But look at the generational breakdown.
Boomers are 50/50. Millennials are +4.
Gen Z is +10.
I'll keep saying it: Zoomers are going to be the most right-wing generation in recent memory.
In some ways, this is the U.S. catching up with something that's happening across the West. One of the fascinating things about right-wing nationalism in Europe is that it's often more popular with young voters. It wasn't 60-something pensioners who were singing "Auslander Raus."
It's true. Gen X was a remarkably healthy, patriotic generation, wedged between two highly dysfunctional ones. In 1984, Reagan overperformed with 18-24 year olds—the first batch of Gen X voters.
The last time the GOP carried that age demo was 1988.
It's not even particularly clandestine or secretive—a lot of these groups are openly boasting about it.
The USCCB, for example, regularly touts their efforts on their website:
Same thing with HIAS—one of the groups whose funding skyrocketed under Biden. (And is actively involved in transporting migrants up from South America into the U.S.)
These guys are in DC, actively advocating for expanding asylum, more refugees, etc:
This is arguably the single most important aspect of Trump's funding freeze.
The immigration crisis isn't an accident. It's a well-oiled system, facilitated by powerful NGOs—and funded by your tax dollars.
By defunding the NGOs, Trump is crippling the entire system. 🧵
Here's what just happened: Last week, President Trump signed an executive order suspending refugee admissions into the U.S.
Then, the State Department went a step further—they issued a "stop-work" order to their NGO "partners," suspending all funding for refugee resettlement.
The NGOs were beside themselves. And for good reason—very few of these groups are self-sufficient. Most of them are sustained by the federal tax-dollar gravy train. The immigration crisis is being financed by your government—with your money.
For years, we were told that "the internet isn't real life." But in this election, it was. Online influencers, issues and ideas played a major role in the 2024 election—especially on the right.
Today's right is more "online" than the left—and that's part of why it's winning. 🧵
Conservative politics used to take place on the airwaves of Fox and talk radio, in established journals and magazines, think tanks and direct-mail campaigns, etc. Now almost all of that is downstream of the internet. In 2024, the right-wing "lifeworld" is shaped online.
It's a trickle-down information economy: Not every Republican voter is active on here. But the people that *they* get their news from are. The talk-show pundits, Fox News scriptwriters, journalists, etc are almost all "very online." This is where the influencers are influenced.
In his farewell speech, Joe Biden raged against the "tech-industrial complex."
That "complex" is real. But it's extremely left-wing.
There's a revolving door between Big Tech and the Democratic Party.
They're not just allies—they're often literally run by the same people. 🧵
There are a number of high-profile renegade tech titans (i.e., Elon Musk) who are "on the right." Obviously, that's who Biden was talking about in his speech.
But they're exceptions to the rule. Writ large, the tech industry is an extension of the institutional Left.
In the 2020 campaign, for example, employees of Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Apple and Facebook were "the five largest sources of money for Mr. Biden’s campaign and joint fundraising committees among those identifying corporate employers," according to the Wall Street Journal: