As U.S. President Donald Trump publicly floated the idea of buying Greenland, the island’s indigenous Inuit communities have expressed bewilderment and concern, highlighting a worldview that contrasts sharply with the notion of national ownership. For centuries, Greenland’s Inuit people have lived as guardians of the land, believing that the Arctic terrain is collectively shared rather than privately owned.
“We can’t even buy our own land ourselves, but Trump wants to buy it – that’s so strange to us,” said Kaaleeraq Ringsted, 74, in Kapisillit, a small settlement east of the capital, Nuuk. Ringsted, a former fisherman and hunter, now serves as the village catechist at the tiny church perched on a cliff above the fjord. “Since childhood, I have been used to the idea that you can only rent land. We have always been used to the idea that we collectively own our land.”
Kapisillit, home to just 37 residents, is a place of raw natural beauty and harsh logistics. The village is accessible only via a steep wooden staircase from the cliff above and relies on a small pier for weekly supply boats from Nuuk. Its modest amenities include a school, a grocery store, a service house for laundry and showers, and a small emergency room. Life revolves around fishing, hunting, and survival in the unforgiving Arctic winter, when the sun barely rises above the surrounding mountains.
“We’ve always had a free life here in nature,” said Heidi Lennert Nolso, the village leader. “We can sail and go anywhere without restrictions.”
The notion of Greenland as a U.S. strategic asset made headlines last year when Trump suggested acquiring the island to secure national security interests and exploit its mineral wealth. Though he later walked back the idea of outright purchase, claiming a NATO agreement had ensured “total and permanent U.S. access” to the island, much of the deal remains opaque.
For most villagers, global geopolitics are secondary to immediate concerns. “People here are interested in the day that is coming. Is there food in the fridge? Fine, then I can sleep a little longer. If there is no food, then I will go out and catch fish or go shoot a reindeer,” said Vanilla Mathiassen, a Danish teacher in Kapisillit.
Greenland, an autonomous Danish territory, does not allow private land ownership. “In Greenland, you can’t own the land,” said Ulrik Blidorf, a Nuuk-based lawyer. “It’s been like that ever since our ancestors came here. Today you get a right to use the area where you have your house.” Nearly 90% of Greenland’s 57,000 residents are indigenous Inuit, whose cultural traditions emphasize stewardship over possession.
“In our understanding, owning land is the wrong question,” said Rakel Kristiansen, from a family of shamanic practitioners. “The question should be who is responsible for the land. The land existed before us, and it will exist after us.”
Despite the isolation and decline of traditional livelihoods, residents of Kapisillit remain rooted in their ancestral home. The village once boasted nearly 500 people, but economic shifts and the lure of education and jobs elsewhere have thinned the population. Only three children remain in the local school, and the settlement risks closure if younger generations continue to leave.
Yet some traditions endure. Kristiane Josefsen, a lifelong resident, continues to process sealskins for Nuuk’s national costumes, a physically demanding task. “I’m staying here. I belong here,” she said. “This is my land. Greenland is my land.”
As the world debates strategic interests and ownership, Greenland’s Inuit communities offer a reminder of an alternative worldview: one where land is not a commodity to buy or sell, but a shared responsibility to be respected and protected.
