#22 Gray Area

Greenland may have recently returned to the center of global politics due to Donald Trump’s aggressive overtures, but as early as 160 years ago, debates in the United States Congress echoed the belief that Greenland needed to be acquired. Among the most ardent advocates of this idea was William H. Seward, then Secretary of State and one of the architects of American expansionism.

According to a report prepared by Seward in 1868, Greenland stood out as a unique resource due to its abundant stocks of whales, seals, salmon, and coal deposits. Although Seward’s new initiative was viewed with little value at the time in a United States still healing from the Civil War—especially after his purchase of Alaska from the Russian Empire for $7.2 million had already stirred public controversy—American ambitions regarding the island did not end.

At the beginning of the 20th century, Greenland remained a silent object in closed-door negotiations among major powers. A plan proposed in 1910 but never realized clearly revealed the colonial mindset of the era. Under this plan, Denmark would transfer Greenland to the United States, while the United States would give Denmark certain islands in the Philippines; in return, Germany would return the Schleswig-Holstein region to Denmark.

While Greenland’s fate was considered merely as a bargaining chip by distant powers, the will of its people found no place in this equation. World War II, however, further highlighted Greenland’s geopolitical value. Citing the possibility that Nazi Germany might seize control of the island, the United States effectively deployed troops to Greenland. Thus, this “temporary” military presence became permanent after the war.

By 1951, under a Defense Agreement signed between the United States and Denmark, the Thule Air Base, now transformed into a space base, was constructed. During the Cold War, this base became one of the central nodes of early warning systems against potential ballistic missile attacks from the Soviet Union, turning Greenland into NATO’s forward outpost in the Arctic.

With a surface area nearly three times that of Türkiye, Greenland is the world’s largest island. Today, approximately 80 percent of its surface is covered by a thick ice sheet. Its population is only around 56,000. Moreover, if current demographic trends continue, Greenland’s population is expected to fall below 50,000 by 2050. This situation reinforces the perception of the island as an empty space, and its political status deepens this fragility.

In the decolonization process that accelerated after World War II, Greenland’s colonial status was formally ended in 1953, and the island became an inseparable part of the Kingdom of Denmark. Although Greenland gained increased autonomy through a 2009 referendum following its initial autonomy granted in 1979, authority over foreign policy, defense, security, and monetary policy remains with Denmark.

Greenlandic politicians designate independence as their ultimate goal, but Donald Trump’s plans regarding Greenland have further complicated the situation. In 2019, Trump first publicly raised the idea of purchasing Greenland; after the Danish Prime Minister dismissed the proposal as “absurd,” Trump canceled his planned visit to Denmark.

During Trump’s second term, his tone grew even harsher. Allegations emerged that the United States had developed military plans targeting Greenland, and Trump’s statement that “ownership of Greenland is an absolute necessity for U.S. national security” signaled that the prospect of forcible acquisition, not just purchase, was now on the table. Trump’s earlier declaration that he had no need to respect international law after his intervention in Venezuela further highlighted the normative rupture in U.S. foreign policy, now reemerging in the Greenland issue.

In response to the hardening U.S. rhetoric, Denmark’s Intelligence Agency identified the United States alongside Russia and China as a potential threat, while Denmark accused the United States of conducting influence operations in Greenland. These developments indicate that the Greenland issue has moved beyond classical military competition into the realm of social manipulation.

In response to European criticism, Trump’s move once again created economic pressure, announcing that a 10 percent tariff would be imposed on European countries including Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, and that this rate would rise to 25 percent if no agreement on Greenland were reached. Thus, trade was once again transformed into a geopolitical weapon, this time directly targeting European nations.

The reason Greenland has become so critical lies in the transformation caused by global warming in the Arctic region. Melting glaciers are reshaping global trade routes, with a new Arctic route emerging as an alternative to the Suez Canal. This new route is expected to reduce travel time between Asia and Europe by 10 to 15 days and cut costs by 30 to 40 percent.

On the other hand, as Secretary of State Seward noted decades ago, Greenland continues to stand out for its natural resources, but today it draws attention not primarily for fishing or coal, but for rare earth elements. Given the United States’ dependence on rare earth elements and Greenland’s geographic proximity to the United States, the island, which hosts at least 25 different rare earth elements, is seen as a critical link in supply chain security.

In conclusion, the Greenland issue goes beyond being merely an island or a territorial dispute. It reflects a broader shift in mindset regarding how the United States perceives the global order and how much weight is given to international law and alliances. The trajectory from the idea of purchase to the possibility of occupation deeply concerns the future of the international system. While U.S. reflexes recall 19th-century imperialism, each intervention now carries the potential for far more global consequences.

Free trade negotiations between the European Union and Mercosur countries (Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, and Paraguay), which began in 1999, reached their final stage with a signing ceremony held this week. Ursula von der Leyen’s remarks at the ceremony revealed that the agreement was designed not only as a commercial deal but also as a high-level political message. However, it is already clear that securing the necessary approval from the European Parliament will not be easy.

The economic scale of the Mercosur Agreement explains why the political debate has been so intense. The agreement aims to eliminate more than 90 percent of customs duties between the parties, with EU companies projected to save over €4 billion annually. Conversely, the agreement opens the European market to Mercosur countries, particularly for agricultural and livestock products.

Another significant dimension of the agreement from the European perspective is its potential to secure access to strategic minerals, especially rare earth elements. In this regard, the agreement is an important part of the effort to reduce strategic dependence on China. For countries supporting the deal, such as Germany and Spain, this step is expected to diversify European trade and strengthen Europe’s economic independence against the U.S.–China axis.

In this context, the agreement is seen as an antithesis to Trump’s trade approach, which relies heavily on economic protectionism and high tariffs. The timing of Trump’s announcement of new tariffs on European countries over the Greenland issue, just hours before the signing ceremony, is no coincidence. Von der Leyen explicitly defined Mercosur as a “geopolitical victory” and framed the agreement as “the defense of rules-based trade in a fragmented world.”

Yet Von der Leyen’s narrative of strategic victory has not convinced everyone in Europe. France, Austria, Hungary, Ireland, and Poland have openly opposed the agreement, and in December, amid rising protests, France called for its postponement. Nevertheless, the process accelerated after Italy withdrew its veto in exchange for special concessions for its farmers, including additional funding and exemptions from carbon taxes on fertilizers.

Following the signing, attention has turned to the European Parliament’s approval process. Although most member states have given the green light, parliamentary approval is required for the agreement to enter into force. After years of negotiations, Mercosur’s fate now depends on the political balance within the parliament and the power of public pressure.

The most visible component of public pressure is undoubtedly farmer protests. The entry of meat and agricultural products from South America into the EU market is perceived as a direct threat to European farmers’ incomes. In European cities frequently affected by farmer protests in recent months, the peak of demonstrations occurred in Paris, where approximately 350 tractors surrounded the parliament and farmers dumped manure on government buildings.

Alongside farmers, environmental groups have also joined the protests, highlighting that environmental protection and food safety standards in Mercosur countries are lower than those in the EU. A major concern is that expanding agricultural production in the region will encourage deforestation in the Amazon basin, contradicting Europe’s climate goals.

All of this demonstrates that the Mercosur Agreement has become the focal point of debates about Europe’s global positioning and internal political balances. On one side are geopolitical uncertainties, the search for economic autonomy against China and the United States, and the claim to defend a rules-based trading order. On the other side stand farmers and environmentalists.

As protests continue in Iran, it is impossible to understand the events solely through what happens on the streets. Another critical dimension, as important as casualties and internet shutdowns, is the propaganda campaign waged around the protests. Today, the crisis in Iran is not only a manifestation of the population’s long-standing dissatisfaction but has also become an information warfare arena employing hybrid warfare tactics.

One of the most striking examples of this transformation emerged last week. A coordinated network of 170 accounts, linked to Israel and using the hashtag #FreeThePersianPeople, reached approximately 18 million users in a short time. The fact that 94 percent of the posts consisted of retweets indicates that the content was not organically generated from the grassroots but rather centrally distributed and amplified.

At the center of this network are narratives promoting Reza Pahlavi as a political alternative to the current Iranian regime and openly legitimizing foreign intervention. What is striking is that despite the monarchy having only limited and controversial support within Iranian society, it is presented online as a “natural opposition.” This suggests an effort not to support the protests themselves but to construct a framework for how the protests can be used.

The direct involvement of international actors in this framework is also notable. Israel’s National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir publicly endorsed the protests through Farsi-language posts, and numerous officials, including U.S. Congressman Pat Fallon, disseminated similar calls for foreign intervention. At this point, symbolic interventions aimed not at solidarity with the Iranian people but at producing specific political outcomes stand out.

In contrast, Iran has adopted a completely different approach. As protests spread to all 31 provinces, the Tehran regime largely cut off internet access. Regarding casualty figures, numerous sources provide widely varying numbers. Iranian officials argue that the unrest has been organized by foreign powers, and direct military threats from Washington make these claims more credible from Tehran’s perspective.

While street protests are fueled by domestic social dynamics such as political pressure and economic crisis, Iran and Israel are competing to determine how this anger is interpreted abroad. Iran blocks information flows, while Israel amplifies chosen narratives such as monarchical restoration, waging the same war on different fronts. Ultimately, the protests in Iran have become, in a sense, a battle over perception and legitimacy. In this new equation, while control of the streets remains important, who tells the story and how it is told appears to be the decisive factor in determining the winner.