Football is Greenland’s most popular sport, with one in ten inhabitants playing it, despite the many challenges: few suitable fields, freezing temperatures, rocky stands, ice-lined sidelines, a very short championship, and part-time players. Most crucially, Greenland is not part of any FIFA continental governing body. The national team has long sought to join CONCACAF, the football federation for North and Central America and the Caribbean, which includes the United States. Gaining CONCACAF membership would allow Greenland to be recognized by FIFA, achieving full membership among the world’s teams—a step that would enable its football scene to develop and grow.
For Greenland, it’s about pride, independence, and recognition. The autonomous territory wants to assert its identity beyond Denmark’s shadow, and football, like it or not, is a political tool, a form of soft power. In the past, Greenland applied to UEFA, which had accepted the Faroe Islands in 1990 despite their Danish ties. However, UEFA has since tightened its membership rules. By contrast, CONCACAF has more flexible criteria and already includes teams from overseas territories of European nations, such as French Guiana and Martinique. Accepting Greenland’s request would bring legitimacy to a national team that currently exists almost clandestinely. Joining CONCACAF would mean more matches, increased financial support, and greater football engagement. Right now, football in Greenland is an amateur affair. The players hold regular jobs—the team captain, Patrick Frederiksen, works in an orphanage, while Kreutzmann, a fan favorite, is a hairdresser. When the weather permits, they train on one of the island’s 18 fields—if lucky, on artificial turf, as natural grass cannot survive Greenland’s harsh climate, long winters, and extended darkness.
In 2011, Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG) architects proposed a new stadium in Nuuk and the project consists of three parts: National gallery of art, a national football stadium and a commercial center. For the national stadium BIG proposed a large dome-shaped roof structure which frames the views of the surroundings from inside the building and also shelters the stadium from wind and snow. Imagine a large wooden structure which creates a warm inside as contrast to the rough Greenlandic climate.
Kenneth Kleist, president of the Greenland Football Association, was supposed to travel to Miami at the invitation of CONCACAF General Secretary Philippe Maggio. But this visit had nothing to do with then-President Trump’s geopolitical ambitions, his vision of acquiring Greenland with its mineral reserves, oil, uranium, and Arctic routes. This was just about football.
Developing football could mean more than just sports growth for Greenland. It could lead to new infrastructure, which is vital given the difficulties of moving around the island—even for the national team. For example, in June, when Greenland played a friendly against Turkmenistan, the journey involved a 45-minute flight from Nuuk to Kangerlussuaq (which until recently was the only airport for large planes), a five-hour flight to Denmark to meet the three professional players based there, and then a three-hour flight to Antalya, Turkey, where they lost 5-0. The return journey meant some players had to take vacation days from their jobs. Beyond logistics, football could also offer a social boost. It would provide hope for young people in Greenland, where challenges such as the world’s highest suicide rate (83 per 100,000 inhabitants) and high levels of alcoholism are stark realities. Many young Greenlanders need a purpose—to play for something, with someone.
The Greenlandic league, in place since 1958 with only two pandemic-related interruptions, is unique. It lasts just one week in early August, the only time of the year when the weather—though still cold to most—is considered warm locally. With greater interest and funding, Greenland could one day have indoor fields, a taste of professionalism, and maybe even nurture talent amid the glaciers.
For now, Greenland’s football ambitions must navigate U.S. politics. The Miami meeting was postponed to April and moved to London to avoid any misunderstandings. Because when football intersects with politics, nothing is free from interpretation. Take 2001, for instance: Greenland was invited to play a friendly against Tibet (whose team was composed of players of Tibetan origin) in Copenhagen. China responded with a threat: if the match proceeded, it would impose an embargo on Greenland’s shrimp exports—one of its most important industries. The Greenlandic government left the decision to the Football Association, which confirmed the match. Greenland won 4-1. China, surprisingly, remained silent and continued buying shrimp.
