Is the annexation of French Guiana by the United States really possible? To answer this question, it is necessary to analyse Donald Trump’s personal psychology, political behaviour, strategic motivations, potential gains for the United States, and the current posture of European leadership. Donald Trump displays traits consistent with narcissism. This manifests in imperial rhetoric “I alone can fix it”, and recurring territorial ambitions, including Greenland “strategic, absolutely”, reiterated in 2019 and 2025, the Panama Canal, and Canada as a hypothetical 51st state. The core hypothesis is that Trump seeks permanent inscription in the historical pantheon, surpassing figures such as Abraham Lincoln, William McKinley and potentially even Peter the Great, Napoleon, or Alexander the Great, through territorial expansion.
Freud’s concept of narcissistic identification with the masses explains this dynamic: Trump projects an imperial ego onto the MAGA collective, reinforcing shared grandiosity, while Jung would interpret this as ego inflation or self-inflation, a psychological condition prone to hubris and eventual enantiodromia—a reversal into collapse. Recent behaviour supports this interpretation. Military coercion has been openly suggested regarding Greenland “by hook or by crook”, alongside fantastical proposals such as transforming Gaza into a luxury “Riviera”. These actions illustrate how the pursuit of personal immortality in history increases systemic global risk—weakening NATO, UN, cohesion and undermining the dollar’s credibility—while reinforcing Trump’s self-image as the “founder of a Greater America.”
The possibility of annexing Greenland is nothing new. The United States’ strategic interest in the island dates back to World War II, when Franklin D. Roosevelt occupied the territory in 1941, following Denmark’s capitulation to Nazi Germany. In 1951, Thule Air Base was created, which would become a central point in the American early warning system against ballistic missiles. Since then, Washington has tried several times to acquire the island. The best-known was the $100 million offer made by Harry Truman in 1946, followed by informal contacts during Richard Nixon’s presidency, all unsuccessful. Donald Trump revived this historical ambition in 2019 and made it clear that the idea was not a joke.
Greenland offers vast resources beyond symbolism: rare earths, oil, plus Arctic melting opening the Northwest Passage (40% shorter than Suez/Panama) under Danish-Greenlandic control, boosting strategic value. Events in January 2026 intensified the situation. On 17 January, Trump imposed 10% tariffs on Denmark and the European Union, threatening escalation to 25%. On 18 January, China and Russia reaffirmed their commitment to UNCLOS. On 20 January, a Davos meeting with NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte produced a vague “Arctic future agreement framework,” temporarily suspending tariffs. On 21 January, Trump used the World Economic Forum platform to demand “immediate negotiations,” invoking alleged U.S. ownership during World War II while denying the intention to use force.
These justifications (national security, historical protection, Danish incapacity, and exaggerated Russian or Chinese ambitions) are largely refutable. NATO already guarantees Greenland’s security, minerals can be accessed through consensual foreign direct investment, and U.S. military expansion is already possible via Thule without annexation. Annexation rhetoric, therefore, is not mere bluster but part of a broader expansionist narrative aimed at personal historical glorification. Canada is effectively a target of Trump’s harassment, particularly French-speaking Quebec. Despite precedents such as U.S. interference in Panama and the kidnapping of Venezuela’s leadership, many governments continue to underestimate Trump’s intentions.
In this context, French Guiana emerges as a tempting target during Trump’s term. The Guiana Space Centre in Kourou processes approximately 40% of Europe’s orbital launch mass. A possible annexation or control of French Guiana would undermine European autonomy in the Galileo and Copernicus programs, as well as increase dependence on the Starlink and Starshield programs. Economically, French Guiana produces approximately five tons of gold annually worth around USD 300 million according CEIC Data, and holds offshore oil potential estimated at one billion barrels and its exploitation would entail minimal military cost, reinforcing a favourable cost-benefit calculation.
Although France maintains a nuclear deterrent of roughly 290 warheads, this capability does not translate into conventional deterrence against the United States nuclear power. French Guiana’s geographic isolation and economic dependence on Kourou amplify its vulnerability. France, one of Europe’s last practicing colonial powers, maintains iron control over 12 overseas territories spanning 2.8 million km² of exclusive economic zone (the world’s second largest) while its “Françafrique” network binds 14 African nations to the CFA franc, with half their reserves held in Paris. New Caledonia’s nickel (25% global supply), French Guiana’s Kourou spaceport, and military bases in Djibouti and Gabon sustain this neocolonial architecture, even as Sahel coups reject French influence. How ironic, then, that America might “liberate” French Guiana through invasion, giving Paris a taste of the decolonization it so stubbornly resists, while inheriting Europe’s most strategically vulnerable enclave.
Ultimately, Trump’s territorial agenda has been pursued with remarkable consistency. Europe now faces an uncomfortable truth: NATO’s long-term viability in a post-Greenland scenario is uncertain, and the outcome will test the endurance of international law itself. The crucial question is how Trump truly wants to be remembered. If Trump goes ahead, he will secure a place in world history. If he backs down, he will only be remembered as the boastful president who finally liberated Europe.
Further Reading on E-International Relations
