by Rajnish Singh
US President Donald Trump on Saturday 17 January used his Truth Social platform to issue a warning from his golf club in West Palm Beach, Florida, saying he would impose tariffs on countries participating in a Danish-led NATO exercise, Operation Arctic Endurance.
The threat was stark. Trump said he would impose a 10 per cent tariff on eight European countries — including the UK, France and Germany — from early February, escalating to 25 per cent by June unless they stopped what he claimed was “blocking” the sale of Greenland.
For European leaders and Brussels officials, the instinct is to panic. But they may want to look across the Atlantic to Canada, where Trump’s provocative suggestion that the country could become a 51st state was met not with outrage, but restraint. Ottawa’s response has been deliberate and understated: keep calm and carry on.
That response was a masterclass in handling Trump. Faced with talk of a US takeover of a close neighbour and ally to “fix” trade imbalances, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney avoided the hysterics and defensiveness such rhetoric can provoke. Instead, the central banker-turned-premier deployed a blend of icy resolve and economic pragmatism.
During a White House visit May 2025, Carney looked Trump in the eye and stated plainly that while the trade relationship was negotiable, “Canada is not for sale.” He did not trade insults; he changed the subject to security and trade.
By treating the “51st state” comment as Trumpian bravado rather than a formal policy shift, Carney stood his ground and preserved his country’s influence without triggering a diplomatic meltdown.
Many analysts and commentators see the Greenland tariff threat as classic Trumpian coercive diplomacy: targeting specific NATO allies in the hope of fracturing European unity. But the threats ring hollow under closer inspection.
Greenland is a self-governing territory within the Kingdom of Denmark, and its population has already signalled — with an 85 per cent disapproval rate — that it has no interest in becoming a US outpost. Nor did Trump’s voters, or his allies on Capitol Hill, sign up for this kind of intervention or take over when they backed a promise to “Make America Great Again”.
If Europe responds with bluster and counter-threats, it risks reinforcing Trump’s narrative of a “disloyal” alliance. A different option is what US political analysts have dubbed the “TACO rule”, Trump Always Chickens Out, a pattern seen in past tariff threats against China, the EU and his much-vaunted “liberation tariffs”, many of which were later paused or watered down under pressure from financial markets.
Viewed this way, such threats often serve as cover for a different negotiation entirely, likely over European defence spending or Chinese investment in the Arctic.
The European Commission is already eyeing its so-called “big bazooka”: the anti-coercion trade instrument originally designed to counter Chinese trade pressure.
But firing it prematurely would be a mistake.
The choice for Brussels is simple: fight a trade war over a social media post, or wait for the near-inevitable U-turn once US markets begin to wobble under the weight of higher import costs.
European leaders should recognise that the Greenland push is less about geography and more about perceived respect, not least following Trump’s recent Nobel Peace Prize snub. Engaging with the drama only validates this tactic.
While pressure may be building from sections of the media and public to retaliate, what is required instead is thick skin and cold thinking.
Europe must defend its sovereignty without torching the transatlantic alliance over what is, in essence, a real estate deal with no legal footing, despite Trump’s occasional hints about using military force.
As Carney has shown, the goal is not to win a shouting match, but to survive the news cycle with borders, and dignity intact. Europe should not take what Trump posts on Truth Social literally, but it must take him and his presidency seriously.
By: N. Peter Kramer