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By K.M. Seethi
Key Takeaways:
The region is shifting from post-Cold War cooperation (Arctic Council) to strategic rivalry, creating a security dilemma that raises risks of miscalculation, including in the nuclear domain.
Sustainable Arctic governance requires balancing security interests with environmental protection, scientific cooperation and the rights of the nearly four million people—especially Indigenous communities—who live there.
The Arctic is rapidly becoming one of the principal arenas of twenty-first century geopolitical competition. The retreat of sea ice, driven by accelerating climate change, is opening new maritime routes, exposing vast reserves of hydrocarbons and critical minerals, and expanding access to strategic waters that were once locked beneath permanent ice. What was long regarded as a region of scientific inquiry and environmental conservation has become an area where military strategy, economic interests and great-power rivalry increasingly have assumed considerable importance.
The United States, Russia, NATO and the European Union are expanding their strategic presence across the High North through military deployments, naval exercises, surveillance systems, icebreaker fleets and critical infrastructure projects. China, although not an Arctic state, is steadily broadening its scientific, commercial and technological engagement, viewing the region as an important component of its long-term global strategy. The Arctic has consequently become an arena where geopolitical ambitions increasingly interconnect one of the world’s fastest-changing environments.
This growing competition could be seen against a backdrop of profound ecological transformation. Rising temperatures, thawing permafrost, disappearing sea ice and changing marine ecosystems are changing the physical geography of the Arctic at an unprecedented pace. These environmental changes are creating new economic opportunities while simultaneously increasing ecological vulnerability. As strategic competition intensifies, concerns over environmental protection, Indigenous rights and international cooperation have been overshadowed by military calculations and resource politics.
Climate Change is Transforming the Arctic
Few regions demonstrate the consequences of climate change more clearly than the Arctic. Scientific observations show that the region is warming nearly four times faster than the global average. Rising temperatures have accelerated the melting of sea ice, thawing of permafrost and erosion of Arctic coastlines. These changes are transforming landscapes that have remained relatively stable for thousands of years.
The consequences go beyond the Arctic itself. Melting sea ice is opening new shipping routes that were once inaccessible for much of the year. Areas previously locked beneath permanent ice are attracting growing interest because of their reserves of oil, natural gas, rare earth minerals and other critical resources. Fisheries are also shifting as marine ecosystems respond to warming waters. What was once largely inaccessible has become increasingly reachable, drawing governments, industries and military planners into a region that was previously regarded as geographically remote.
Climate change is also exposing hidden environmental risks. Arctic permafrost contains approximately 1,300 gigatonnes of organic carbon, while marine sediments and river deltas store another 400 gigatonnes. As frozen ground thaws, increasing quantities of this ancient carbon enter Arctic rivers and coastal waters. Recent research from the Alfred Wegener Institute and the University of Bremen offers a more nuanced understanding of this process. Scientists found that although large amounts of carbon are released into the Arctic Ocean, much of it becomes buried in seabed sediments rather than immediately returning to the atmosphere. Microorganisms consume only about 10 per cent of the carbon deposited in marine sediments, while the remainder is stored beneath the seafloor. These findings may improve climate models, although researchers caution that thawing permafrost continues to alter Arctic ecosystems in complex ways that remain poorly understood.
The movement of sediments and organic material is already affecting marine biodiversity. Increased sediment loads reduce the amount of sunlight reaching underwater ecosystems, influencing algae that support fish, crustaceans and marine mammals. The Arctic’s ecological changes therefore extend from microscopic organisms to entire food webs upon which Indigenous communities have depended for generations. Climate change is transforming economic opportunities, transportation networks, ecological systems and political calculations simultaneously.
Climate Change and the Return of Geopolitics
Environmental transformation has coincided with a profound turn in global politics. As the Arctic becomes more accessible, major powers increasingly regard the region as strategically indispensable. The United States has substantially elevated the Arctic within its national security agenda. A striking illustration is President Donald Trump’s decision to launch a programme to construct 11 heavy polar icebreakers through a partnership with Finland, valued at approximately US$7 billion. Trump has long argued that the United States has lagged behind Russia in Arctic capabilities. He frequently contrasts America’s small operational icebreaker fleet with Russia’s 56 polar icebreakers and China’s growing Arctic presence.
The administration argues that expanded icebreaking capacity is essential for protecting American interests as shipping routes expand and strategic competition intensifies. Critics, however, question both the scale of the programme and the procurement process. The United States Coast Guard’s own assessment had concluded that four or five heavy icebreakers would adequately meet operational requirements. Independent analysts have also questioned whether sufficient long-term funding exists to maintain such a large fleet after construction.
The renewed American interest goes beyond ships. President Trump has repeatedly expressed interest in Greenland, arguing that its location gives it exceptional strategic value for North American security. These remarks have generated unease in Greenland, Denmark and among several European allies, who fear that the Arctic is increasingly being viewed primarily through the prism of strategic competition rather than partnership.
The European Union has also reassessed its Arctic outlook. A recent policy brief argues that the Union’s 2021 Arctic Strategy recommends treating the Arctic, North Atlantic and Baltic Sea as a single strategic theatre. It calls for greater investment in surveillance systems, satellites, underwater autonomous technologies, critical infrastructure and Arctic communications, while also reducing European dependence on imported critical minerals. The report further argues that climate change should be understood as a security multiplier because it increases military activity, exposes critical infrastructure and opens new navigation routes. At the same time, it emphasises that Europe must continue supporting Indigenous communities and sustainable regional development alongside its expanding security agenda.
A Changing Security Landscape
The transformation of the Arctic is equally evident in military planning. NATO has significantly expanded its presence following the accession of Finland and Sweden, bringing seven of the eight Arctic states within the Alliance. New initiatives such as Arctic Sentry, Forward Land Forces Finland, expanded Iceland Air Policing and the establishment of a Combined Air Operations Centre in northern Norway illustrate an effort to improve surveillance, interoperability and operational readiness across the High North.
Military cooperation has also become increasingly sophisticated. The United States and Norway have intensified joint coast guard operations, naval exercises and the testing of unmanned surface and underwater vehicles capable of operating in Arctic conditions. Maritime exercises now routinely involve multiple Arctic partners, reflecting a growing emphasis on coordinated responses across the North Atlantic and Arctic waters.
For NATO, these measures respond primarily to Russia’s expanding military infrastructure, renewed activity on the Kola Peninsula and increasing cooperation between Russia and China. From Moscow’s perspective, however, NATO’s enlargement and expanding military presence represent a direct challenge to Russian security. The result is a classic security dilemma in which each side justifies its own military expansion as defensive while interpreting the other’s actions as threatening.
The Arctic is consequently becoming an arena where climate change and strategic rivalry reinforce one another. Melting sea ice opens new opportunities for navigation and resource extraction. Those opportunities encourage greater military presence. Increased military activity, in turn, raises the risk of miscalculation in a region where communication channels and confidence-building mechanisms have weakened considerably.
The Arctic’s Emerging Nuclear Dimension
The Arctic has long occupied a central place in the strategic calculations of nuclear powers. Much of Russia’s sea-based nuclear deterrent is concentrated in the High North, including strategic submarines, missile early-warning systems and major military installations. During the Cold War, the region formed one of the principal frontiers of nuclear competition. Today, climate change is altering the physical environment in which these strategic systems operate.
The retreat of sea ice is making Arctic waters more accessible to naval forces while simultaneously changing submarine operating conditions. Military vessels from several countries are likely to encounter one another more frequently in increasingly navigable waters. Such encounters increase the possibility of misunderstanding, accidents or escalation between nuclear-armed states. The Arctic is therefore becoming an area where environmental change and strategic instability intersect.
Another concern lies beneath the thawing ground itself. Large quantities of radioactive waste remain buried in former Soviet military sites, including areas around Novaya Zemlya and locations where decommissioned nuclear submarines were disposed of during the Cold War. Rising temperatures and thawing permafrost may expose or destabilise these contaminated sites, creating environmental hazards whose long-term consequences remain uncertain.
The enlargement of NATO has further altered the Arctic security system. With Finland and Sweden joining the Alliance, almost the entire Arctic now falls within NATO’s collective defence framework, while Russia continues to strengthen its military infrastructure across its northern territories. Some European policymakers have also reopened discussions on strengthening independent nuclear deterrence in response to growing uncertainty about long-term American security commitments. These developments suggest that climate change, conventional military competition and nuclear security increasingly reinforce one another, demanding new approaches to governance and risk reduction.
From Cooperation to Strategic Competition
For nearly three decades after the end of the Cold War, the Arctic was widely regarded as an example of constructive international cooperation. The establishment of the Arctic Council in 1996 created a forum where the eight Arctic states worked together on scientific research, environmental protection and sustainable development despite wider political differences. Indigenous organisations also gained an unprecedented institutional voice through their participation as Permanent Participants.
That cooperative spirit has weakened considerably. Relations deteriorated after Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014 and reached a new low following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Ministerial cooperation within the Arctic Council has largely stalled, while scientific collaboration has become increasingly difficult. Institutions that once encouraged dialogue now struggle to function amid growing geopolitical tensions.
At the same time, security concerns have moved to the forefront of Arctic policy. NATO has expanded its operational presence, while Arctic governments have strengthened surveillance systems, military exercises and maritime coordination. The European Union has proposed integrating Arctic security more closely with defence planning, critical infrastructure protection and industrial policy. Hybrid threats—including repeated damage to submarine communication cables and other critical infrastructure—have reinforced the perception that the Arctic is inevitably a part of the geopolitical confrontations.
The danger is that military preparedness, while understandable in an uncertain security environment, may gradually replace dialogue as the dominant language of Arctic governance. Without sustained diplomatic engagement, confidence-building measures and scientific cooperation, the region has become another arena where rivalry overshadows shared responsibility.
Listening to the People of the Arctic
Amid discussions of military strategy, shipping routes and critical minerals, one reality is often overlooked: the Arctic is home to nearly four million people. For Indigenous communities, including the Sámi, Inuit and many others, the Arctic is neither a strategic frontier nor an economic opportunity. It is home, history and identity.
Finnish Arctic scholar Markku Heikkilä argues that the future of the North cannot be decided solely by governments, military planners or corporations. Decisions about infrastructure, mining and resource development must also reflect the knowledge and aspirations of the people who have lived in the Arctic for generations. The debate surrounding the proposed Sakatti copper-nickel mine in Finnish Lapland illustrates these tensions. While the project could contribute to Europe’s demand for critical minerals, it also threatens ecologically sensitive wetlands protected under the Natura 2000 network and raises concerns among reindeer-herding communities. Similar dilemmas are emerging across the Arctic as governments seek greater access to minerals considered essential for the global energy transition.
These debates remind us that sustainable development must be evaluated by its effects on ecosystems, cultural continuity and community well-being. Indigenous knowledge, accumulated over centuries of living in demanding Arctic environments, remains indispensable for understanding ecological change and promoting sustainable governance. The Arctic therefore requires a model of development that places local communities alongside governments and scientists in shaping public policy.
Towards an Ethics of Stewardship
The Arctic raises questions that are more significant unlike geopolitical concerns. It challenges humanity to reconsider its relationship with nature at a time when environmental change is unfolding faster than political institutions can respond. Climate change has demonstrated that ecological systems do not recognise political boundaries. Carbon released from thawing permafrost, rising sea levels and changing ocean currents affect societies far beyond the Arctic Circle.
An ethical approach begins by recognising that security goes beyond military capability. Genuine security also depends on ecological stability, scientific cooperation, respect for Indigenous rights and responsible stewardship of natural resources. Policies that treat the Arctic merely as a theatre for strategic competition would accelerate the very instability they seek to prevent.
Even during periods of political disagreement, scientific cooperation has often remained one of the few channels through which trust can be sustained. Collaborative research on climate change, biodiversity, marine ecosystems and environmental monitoring should therefore be strengthened rather than weakened by geopolitical tensions.
There is also a compelling case for renewing multilateral dialogue. Several scholars have proposed complementary mechanisms involving governments, military officials, coast guards, scientists and Indigenous representatives to address practical concerns such as maritime safety, environmental emergencies, nuclear risk reduction and search-and-rescue cooperation. Such initiatives will not eliminate strategic competition, but they can reduce the risk of misunderstanding and encourage confidence-building where formal diplomacy has become difficult.
The upshot is that the we cannot allow Arctic to become another arena where environmental change is viewed primarily as an opportunity for strategic gain. We should, instead, remind the international community that ecological responsibility and peaceful cooperation remain indispensable foundations of global security.
About K.M. Seethi
K.M. Seethi is Director, Inter University Centre for Social Science Research and Extension (IUCSSRE), Mahatma Gandhi University (MGU), Kerala. He also served as ICSSR Senior Fellow, Senior Professor of International Relations and Dean of Social Sciences at MGU. One of his latest works is "ENDURING DILEMMA Flashpoints in Kashmir and India-Pakistan Relations."
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Fish over Trump: Economy will determine Iceland's vote on the EU
While Arctic security and US claims over Greenland dominate international headlines, Icelanders are set to decide their European future on far more familiar grounds such as fish and farming. The 29 August referendum is less about geopolitics than sovereignty and identity.
Blue whiting, mackerel and golden redfish could prove more decisive at the ballot box than US President Donald Trump's expansionist ambitions, Russia's looming threats or European politicians' sweet nothings.
In Iceland, where the sea shapes the economy, livelihoods and national identity, the most significant crossroads of the last decade ultimately comes down to one thing: fish.
On 29 August, Icelanders will vote on whether to resume negotiations to join the European Union, restarting a process that was frozen in 2013. If voters approve, negotiations with Brussels will kick off again – with the prospect of joining the EU sooner than other countries on the waiting list.
At first glance, the geopolitical timing seems obvious. The United States' renewed interest in Greenland, combined with the long war in Ukraine, has pushed the Arctic higher on Europe's strategic agenda, while Icelanders appear increasingly caught between two great powers.
Yet beneath the headlines, the campaign tells a different story. This referendum is being fought over economics, sovereignty and, above all, control of Iceland's fishing grounds, according to Eirikur Bergmann, politics professor at Bifröst University and one of the country's best-known political writers.
“Icelanders are split in half,” he said, arguing that public debate still centres, as it always has, on the benefits of adopting the euro and the risks facing the fishing industry.
Fishermen's concerns are Iceland's concerns
While fishing's share of Iceland's GDP is declining, it still accounted for about 8% in 2024. It remains one of the country's largest export industries and the backbone of many coastal communities.
This isn't the first time Icelanders have fought over the sea: during the three “Cod Wars” between 1958 and 1976, Reykjavík successfully defended its maritime claims against the United Kingdom.
Today, the threat comes from the EU's Common Fisheries Policy (CFP), which manages fishing resources among member states. The “shared fish stocks” that fall under the jurisdiction of more than one state, with a division of catch quotas, are the biggest concern for the Icelandic fishing industry, prompting exemptions or special arrangements if the country joins the EU.
Iceland's fishing industry is indeed built around one of the world's most sophisticated quota systems. It sets scientifically based catch limits and allocates fishing rights to each vessel, with quotas that can also be traded.
For fishermen in coastal towns such as Ísafjörður or Vestmannaeyjar, local media report that the question is not only how much fish Iceland can catch, but also who should have the right to decide who catches it.
As Foreign Minister Þorgerður Katrín Gunnarsdóttir said in a recent interview, fisheries and agriculture are likely to become the toughest chapters in any renewed accession talks.
Like fishermen, Iceland's farmers also operate under one of Europe's most protected agricultural systems, supported by public subsidies designed to compensate for the country's harsh climate and small domestic market.
For them, the feared acronym is CAP (Common Agricultural Policy), the EU agriculture overhaul which distributes subsidies according to common rules and could disrupt the entire domestic system.
Supporters of EU integration are also betting on economic advantages for their campaign.
The biggest is the eventual adoption of the euro. This would eliminate exchange-rate volatility caused by the Icelandic krona, bringing down inflation, interest rates and the cost of international trade, as highlighted in a recent report from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD).
A referendum born by chance
This renewed interest in Europe is not a response to Trump's repeated statements about Greenland and expansion ambitions in the Arctic region.
While the United States has long been Iceland's principal security guarantor through NATO and cooperation with the EU becomes more attractive if Washington becomes less predictable, the security issue has neither shaped domestic politics nor is it dominating the discussion on the referendum.
“I wouldn't say that has properly filtered into the debate yet,” Bergmann said, arguing that the country decided to hold the referendum after the 2024 election.
“This is prior to the second term of Donald Trump and prior to these geopolitical changes. The security defence issue was not a part of that decision,” he said.
The referendum is the consequence of a change in government rather than a dramatic shift in public opinion.
A Eurosceptic coalition came to power in 2013, suspending negotiations and later withdrawing Iceland's application altogether, without consulting the electorate. The pendulum swung back in 2024, and a coalition of pro-European parties pledged to let Icelanders decide whether negotiations should resume.
“The only reason Iceland is moving ahead now is that we have a change in government. But the EU question had nothing to do with these parties coming to power,” Bergmann said.
He believes this explains why opinion polls remain finely balanced, with Icelanders revisiting a question that has divided the country since the early 2000s.
Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin may have reminded Iceland that the international order is changing, but voters entering polling stations are likely to think less about Greenland or Russia's ambitions in the Arctic than about domestic economic concerns.
A clear path to the EU
While Icelanders remain divided over whether negotiations should even resume, Iceland would probably face a smoother accession process than many candidate countries in the Western Balkans or Eastern Europe.
Iceland is already deeply integrated into Europe: it's a member of the single market through the European Economic Area (EEA), and enjoys free movement of people, goods, services and capital within the Schengen area.
Negotiations would not start from scratch, but would be built on the results of the previous agreements.
By the time Iceland withdrew its application in 2013, 27 negotiating chapters had been opened, 11 of which had been provisionally closed.
If negotiations resume, the European Commission will first need to assess the legislative changes that have taken place in Iceland over the past decade before discussions can formally restart.
“Beyond the technicalities, it is clear that Iceland would be going into the negotiations one step ahead, compared to another candidate country,” an EU official told Euronews.
The Nordic country is also largely aligned with the EU on democratic standards, according to Valérie Hayer, leader of the liberal Renew Europe group in the European Parliament and one of the staunchest supporters of Iceland’s accession.
“It is already a highly capable democratic partner (which) shares common values and (which) already plays a pivotal role in North Atlantic security,” she said, claiming that adding Reykjavík would reinforce the EU’s geopolitical reach.
European politicians and EU officials stressed that Iceland has nothing to lose in EU membership talks and that joining the Union poses no threat to the Icelandic language: it would enjoy the same official status as other EU languages, despite being spoken by fewer than 400,000 people.
Even so, for many Icelanders, the referendum on Europe raises deeper questions of identity. Some fear joining a supranational institution would result in a gradual erosion of Iceland's political autonomy, a particularly sensitive issue for a country that achieved full independence from Denmark in the 20th century.
The future of Iceland's relationship with Europe may ultimately depend on emotional considerations, another EU official familiar with the matter told Euronews.
“Voting will take place on the mainland, but people will vote looking at the sea.”
