There was a time—one can still remember it, though only dimly—when conservatism meant something. When the Republican Party could be relied upon, at least rhetorically, to uphold tradition, to seek consensus among allies, and to guard against foreign entanglements and domestic hubris alike. We understood that there’s a time to fight and a time to think, and the measure of true leadership—particularly conservative leadership—has always been the ability to know the difference.
Donald Trump has shown, at times, an uncanny ability to tap into real, justified frustrations in American life: porous borders, economic erosion, cultural decay, the corruption of once-trusted institutions. When he directs his fire at radical ideologies that threaten the country’s fabric, he is often at his best—unafraid, unbought, and, yes, often effective.
But when he manufactures enemies out of thin air, when he lashes out at allies, invents conflicts, or drags the nation into petty squabbles, he is at his worst. And the latest saber-rattling over Greenland is a prime example.
The idea that the United States should acquire Greenland from Denmark—a sovereign democracy, a peaceful ally, and a fellow NATO member—is not only diplomatically absurd, it is strategically self-defeating. It takes what should be a united front among Western powers and fractures it for the sake of optics, headlines, and, one suspects, ego.
Vice President JD Vance, in a visit to Greenland, echoed this ill-conceived message by implying that Denmark has somehow failed to “secure” the territory from Chinese influence. This is not a serious argument. It’s a soundbite masquerading as strategy. Greenland is part of the Kingdom of Denmark. It is not under threat. And the U.S. already has a military presence there by invitation, thanks to decades of cooperation, trust, and shared purpose.
If we are truly concerned about broader global strategy—about deterring China, confronting Russia, preserving the liberal order—then we should be doing everything in our power to strengthen NATO, not antagonize it. Greenland, if it ever became a genuine strategic flashpoint, would be secured not by coercion or land grabs but by the very alliance Trump now undermines. That’s how it worked in World War II. That’s how it would work again.
This isn’t just a betrayal of American interests—it’s a rejection of the very conservative principles that once defined our foreign policy: prudence, realism, alliance, and restraint.
“Restraint”—an ugly word these days, isn’t it? How quaint! And yet conservatism, properly understood, is rooted in exactly that wisdom. It values partnership over provocation, diplomacy over theater, stability over chaos. The great conservative statesmen of the past—Eisenhower, Reagan, Bush the elder—understood that American power was magnified, not diminished, by alliance. That NATO was not a burden but a blessing. That it is easier to lead when others are willing to follow.
That tradition was once embodied by men like Colin Powell, who observed that America, after its many wars, never asked for tribute or territory—only “enough land to bury our dead.” This was not sentimentalism. It was a moral creed—a rejection of conquest in favor of sacrifice. Today, that creed is under assault by a movement that sees territory as a trophy and partnership as a sign of weakness.
What we see now is the inverse. Today, we find ourselves in the absurd position of antagonizing our friends while flattering our foes. Trump has praised authoritarians, insulted allies, and now seeks to bully Denmark as if it were some vassal state rather than a sovereign nation and long-standing partner—one that may be small in size but not in principle. This is not merely stupid. It is profoundly un-American.
And there’s a commonality here: Trump sees weaker states as being rightfully dominated by the stronger—Ukraine, Canada, and now Denmark—as though the globe were a board game and the team that captures the most territory on the map wins.
Worse still is the silence of those who should know better. A party once known for its moral clarity now offers only nods of compliance.
This is not just unwise. It’s unserious.
It falls to those of us who still believe in conservative realism to say so. America should not waste its power, nor should Republicans waste political capital, on petty disputes with democratic partners. We should conserve it—there’s that word again—and our alliances, understanding the relationship is not parasitic but symbiotic: that our power is made stronger in alliance, just as the alliance is made stronger by our power.
Greenland is not the hill to die on. In fact, it’s not even a hill. It’s a distraction dressed up as a doctrine—an empty flex that confuses confrontation for clarity and bravado for strength. America faces real challenges abroad and real fractures at home. We cannot afford to squander our credibility, our alliances, or our focus on battles that don’t need to be fought. Leadership is about knowing which fights are worth having. This isn’t one of them.
