Greenland

The United Nations General Assembly’s resolution on ‘Correct the Map’ extends beyond the technical debate over map projections. It reveals a new arena of symbolic contestation in which countries of the Global South are seeking to renegotiate how the world is represented. The resolution encourages the use of equal-area projections, particularly Equal Earth. It neither prescribes a single map nor alters national borders but confers explicit UN legitimacy on a longstanding African demand: that the continent should not be depicted in education, the media or international institutions in ways that diminish its spatial weight relative to northern regions. Viewed in this light, the vote represents more than a geographical correction. It marks a political breakthrough in ‘visual governance’, where knowledge intersects with power and the image of the world presented to the public becomes a matter for negotiation within the multilateral system.   This initiative comes at a time when countries of the Global South are increasingly able to place questions of identity and representation on the international agenda. The resolution’s adoption demonstrates that soft power operates not only through culture and discourse but also through the standards that shape public knowledge. Changing a map projection will not, in itself, redirect investment or reconfigure supply chains. It does, however, provide a narrative instrument through which countries in Africa, Latin America and South Asia can highlight the scale of their markets, the reach of their corridors and their position within global resource and trade networks. ‘Visual emancipation’ thus offers a means of presenting the South’s geoeconomic weight anew: a framework that helps make its material sources of power more visible and encourages them to be taken more seriously.   Throughout history, maps have been among the most influential instruments of epistemic authority. They serve practical purposes in navigation and administration, while also determining what occupies the centre, what appears at the margins, how borders are drawn and how places are named. Cartography has therefore been inseparable from the state and empire. Maps have been used in surveying, taxation, military campaigns and the delineation of spheres of influence, helping to turn geographical space into a domain that can be administered and controlled. Every map carry, alongside its data, assumptions about purpose, scale, projection and the viewer’s standpoint. Reading a map consequently requires more than asking whether it is accurate. It demands a more political set of questions: accurate for what purpose, who chose this way of depicting the world, and what perceptions does that choice entrench when it becomes a widely accepted standard?   Since the sixteenth century, the Mercator projection has occupied an exceptional position in world cartography. Designed primarily for navigation, it preserves angles and represents constant bearings as straight lines but increasingly exaggerates area towards the poles. The problem lies in its adoption as a general image of the world in classrooms, the media and digital platforms, including settings where comparing areas is the principal objective, rather than in its use for the task for which it was designed. The consequences are particularly clear in the comparison between Africa and Greenland. On many Mercator maps, they appear similar in size, whereas Africa covers approximately 30.37 million square kilometres, nearly fourteen times Greenland’s roughly 2.17 million square kilometres. Repeated across generations, this image does not create political marginalisation on its own but supplies it with a visual language consistent with the North’s centrality in the global imagination.   The Correct the Map resolution, led by Togo on behalf of the African Group and supported by the African Union, brings this objection into an international institutional framework. The General Assembly adopted the text contained in document A/80/L.104 with 164 countries voting in favour, the United States alone voting against, and six abstentions. The political significance of this outcome lies in the breadth of support beyond Africa and the countries traditionally associated with the Global South, encompassing European states and international powers with divergent interests. The resolution is not legally binding and does not affect sovereignty, borders or the legal status of disputed territories. It does, however, call on educational institutions, the media, international organisations and digital platforms to give serious consideration to projections better suited to depicting relative areas. Its principal strength therefore lies in transforming ‘visual justice’ from an African advocacy campaign into an international norm capable of wider adoption.

Recent developments point to a discernible shift in U.S. foreign policy, as Washington moves away from traditional international principles towards a more pragmatic, interest-driven approach. Within this evolving framework, islands and narrow maritime chokepoints have gained renewed strategic prominence as critical instruments of influence. No longer viewed as remote geographic outposts, islands are increasingly regarded as pivotal assets for securing energy flows, safeguarding supply lines, and controlling maritime navigation. This shift reflects a broader strategic intent to assert effective control over key geographic positions in order to sustain military presence, expand economic influence, and command the vital corridors through which global trade flows.   This heightened focus on islands in current U.S. policy reflects a strategic mindset that tightly links geography, military presence, and sovereignty. Within this framework, geographic locations are treated as assets that can be leveraged through acquisition or utilised as instruments of pressure and bargaining. In this context, islands are seen as discrete, manageable nodes that can be secured or defended to project influence across wider regions. This approach is evident in the handling of territories such as Greenland, Kharg Island, the Chagos Archipelago, and the Falkland Islands during Donald Trump's presidency. Against this backdrop, the present analysis seeks to unpack the geopolitical foundations and strategic drivers shaping the Trump administration’s approach to islands, positioning them as central instruments in the reconfiguration of American influence.

“We need it for defence.” With these words, U.S. President Donald Trump sought to frame Greenland as a question of national security. The island’s vast reserves of critical minerals and its strategic position in the Arctic have long made it geopolitically significant, yet Trump’s rhetoric elevated it into a symbol of broader American ambitions. This move prompted a rare joint statement by the leaders of seven NATO member states, who rejected any attempt to annex Greenland, a semi-autonomous territory of Denmark. Coming alongside U.S. actions elsewhere, including the removal of Venezuela’s President Nicolás Maduro and threats of intervention in other regions, these developments have fuelled growing concern within NATO that Washington is advancing a new international order driven primarily by its own interests. The prospect of Greenland’s annexation therefore raises serious questions not only about the future of the alliance, but also reveals Europe’s weakened position in the international system and its limited capacity to resist American pressure.