On their frigid Danish island, are Greenlanders interested in jumping ship?   

Text and photos: Yitzchok Landa, Greenland

Despite proud Greenlanders chafing under Danish rule, the idea of President Trump annexing their country to the United States isn’t very appealing to most. But like with many things the president is intent on accomplishing, the Greenlanders’ feelings may not be enough to stop him

I'm walking down the snow-covered streets of Nuuk, capital city of Greenland, when a shiny SUV roars ahead of me, pulls a hard left turn, and stops short, fishtailing on the icy road. The driver rolls his window down and I suppress a smile. It’s the prime minister of Greenland, Múte Bourup Egede, and he looks furious. “You!” he shouts. “Come with me! We’re going to the police!”

Instead of panicking, I think, This can’t get any more surreal.

President Trump’s bombastic announcement that he intends to annex Greenland to the US has turned the world’s attention on the freezing island located between the Arctic and North Atlantic oceans. Currently an autonomous territory of the Kingdom of Denmark, its strategic location offers an enormous advantage in the increasingly tense dance between three superpowers: Russia, China, and the US. And beyond location, Greenland’s supposed geological riches have also sparked Trump’s interest — hence my 2,000 mile pilgrimage from Toms River, New Jersey, to Nuuk, Greenland, braving the arctic temperatures to hear what the locals actually think about this contentious issue.

Of course, I wanted a statement from the prime minister, and when my emails went unanswered, I decided to do the simplest thing and knock on his door. There was no security, and the young woman who answers the door says the prime minister isn’t home and declines to comment.

I obediently leave, though not before snapping a few pictures of the house, and am only about ten minutes away on foot when I’m accosted by the prime minister himself.

His bluster isn’t intimidating; in fact, I feel bad for him. He appears to be a kind and goodhearted person, but — like many of his citizens —he’s rattled. The sudden world attention to his chilly corner of the planet is overwhelming.

I deflect Egede’s attempts to detain me, and calmly reply that I would not be getting into his car and not going to the police because I hadn’t broken any laws.

He calms down pretty soon and we have a pleasant conversation, though he expresses his frustration at the world’s perspective of Greenland as a Monopoly piece of real estate up for grabs. “We just want to be respected,” he tells me. “We are Greenlanders. We are not Americans. We are not Danes. We are masters of our own fate.”

The few days I spend in Nuuk polling the locals about Trump’s plan pretty much bear out the prime minister’s sentiments. Most are opposed, with only a small mority interested in American citizenship. Mostly though, the plan, which leaves no room for Greenlanders’ opinion, is an insult to their deeply honed nationalistic pride.

But caught in a geopolitical vise and battling a force of nature like President Trump, they may find their feelings don’t matter all that much.