When Donald Trump floated the idea of buying Greenland in 2019, the international media treated it as a joke, another off-the-cuff Trumpism to file alongside his bluster about tariffs, NATO, and “America First.” But the notion wasn’t just real; it was revealing. Trump’s interest in Greenland wasn’t a real estate gimmick. It was a geopolitical signal, one that should have been heard loud and clear in Ottawa.
The Arctic is no longer a frozen, inaccessible frontier. Technological advances and the race for critical minerals have made it one of the most strategically valuable regions on the planet. Ice freeze-and-melt cycles are opening new shipping routes that could radically alter global trade. Beneath the ice lie vast deposits of rare earths, oil, and gas, the kind of resources that shape 21st-century power. The United States, Russia, and China all know it. The question is whether Canada does.
Trump’s Greenland play, paired with his calls for greater Arctic militarization, was a warning: the era of benign neglect in the North is over. For Canada, it should have been a wake-up call to assert sovereignty over our Arctic territories, invest in the military capabilities needed to defend them, and position ourselves as a core ally in North American Arctic strategy. Instead, Ottawa stayed quiet, continuing a pattern of delay, underinvestment, and avoidance that stretches back decades. 
A Liberal Record of Military Drift
The Carney-Trudeau government had spent nearly a decade talking about Canada’s commitment to NATO and the rules-based international order, but has failed to match words with action. Military procurement has been notoriously slow and riddled with political interference. Replacing our aging CF-18 fighter jets became a two decade-long political football, only now inching toward resolution with the purchase of F-35s. The Royal Canadian Navy is short ships. Our icebreaker fleet, critical for Arctic sovereignty, is old, few in number, and unable to sustain a credible presence year-round.
Most damning is our status as a NATO laggard. The alliance’s agreed target for defence spending is 2% of GDP. Canada has hovered around 1.3% for years, placing us firmly in the bottom tier of allies. NATO’s latest strategic concept makes clear the Arctic’s growing importance, yet Canada is neither funding nor building the capabilities to match the rhetoric.
The Liberals have pointed to their 2017 defence policy, “Strong, Secure, Engaged,” as proof of commitment. But even where spending has increased, procurement delays mean the capabilities aren’t arriving in time to meet urgent needs. In the Arctic, that means we are already years behind where we should be in surveillance, patrol, and deterrence.
The Strategic Cost of Inaction
In a world where great powers are jostling for position in the North, inaction carries consequences. Russia has re-opened and modernized Soviet-era bases along its northern coast, built new ones, and stationed advanced air and missile systems in the region. China has declared itself a “near-Arctic state” and is investing in icebreakers, research stations, and deep-sea mining capabilities. Beijing’s interests are not limited to science; they are about access, influence, and eventually, presence.
The U.S., under Trump, was blunt about these realities. Greenland was not about tourism potential, it was about securing territory that could serve as a strategic bulwark against Russian and Chinese advances. Trump pushed for more icebreakers, more patrols, and more investment in Arctic defence infrastructure. His administration made it clear that Washington was prepared to act, with or without Canada.
That is the stark choice Ottawa faces. If Canada continues to under-invest and delay, the U.S. will have little choice but to proceed unilaterally to secure the North American Arctic. In that scenario, Canadian sovereignty becomes a polite fiction, acknowledged on paper but irrelevant in practice. Washington’s priority will be security, not the niceties of jurisdiction, and Canada’s voice in Arctic governance will be diminished.
Worse, a vacuum in Canadian presence could invite direct challenges. Russia’s military build-up in the Arctic is already the largest since the Cold War. Chinese investment in Arctic research and infrastructure may be couched in civilian terms, but it is part of a broader strategy to project influence along future trade routes. If Canada is not seen as a willing and capable steward of its territory, others will see opportunity.
Sovereignty Requires Capability and Willing Partnership
Arctic sovereignty is not asserted through speeches; it is maintained through capability. That means icebreakers that can operate year-round, aircraft that can patrol and respond quickly, satellites that can provide persistent surveillance, and well-trained personnel stationed in the region. It means building and maintaining infrastructure, from ports to airstrips, that allows for sustained presence.
It also means money. Real money. Canada cannot maintain Arctic sovereignty on a peacetime budget designed for a bygone era. Meeting NATO’s 2% target is not a symbolic gesture; it is the minimum threshold to ensure we are seen as a credible ally and partner in defending the North.
The reality is that the U.S. will be the dominant military power in the Arctic for the foreseeable future. For Canada, the choice is between being a willing, respected partner, with influence over strategy and shared investment in capabilities, or being a passive observer whose territory is defended primarily by another state’s forces. The first option preserves sovereignty; the second erodes it.
Trump’s Blunt Warning
Say what you will about Trump’s style, he had a knack for signalling American priorities without diplomatic varnish. His Greenland proposal was widely mocked in Canada, a case study in how Ottawa treats U.S. initiatives it doesn’t like: with a mix of smugness and silence. But beneath the bluster was a message Canadians should have taken seriously: the U.S. is moving to secure its northern flank, and it will act decisively where it sees strategic value.
Trump’s call for Arctic militarization was not an outlier. It was consistent with broader U.S. defence thinking, which views the region as a new front in great-power competition. The Biden administration has continued this emphasis, releasing a new National Strategy for the Arctic Region in 2022 that prioritizes security, economic development, and alliances. The difference is that Biden dresses it in multilateral language; Trump put it in plain, sometimes abrasive, terms. The substance is the same.
A Call to Action
For Canada, the lesson is clear: Arctic sovereignty is not something we can outsource, delay, or assume will remain uncontested. It is a strategic asset that must be actively defended – militarily, diplomatically, and economically. That requires more than token deployments and symbolic announcements. It requires sustained investment, clear priorities, and a willingness to align closely with Washington’s strategic posture.
The Carney government, and any future government, should commit to a multi-decade Arctic security strategy that accelerates procurement, expands infrastructure, and fully integrates Canadian and U.S./NATO capabilities in the region. We should aim to be the indispensable partner in North American Arctic defence, not the reluctant junior who needs to be cajoled into action.
In great-power politics, absence is not neutral. It is an opening. The Arctic chessboard is being set now, and the pieces are moving quickly. Trump understood this, even if his methods drew derision. If Canada does not match words with resources and resolve, we may find ourselves watching the game from the sidelines – our sovereignty a talking point, not a fact.
