In the eyes of many of his fellow Greenlanders, Jorgen Boassen is a traitor.
A few weeks ago at a dive bar in Nuuk, Greenland’s capital, someone slugged him in the face, sending him to the hospital. But whatever the consequences of his convictions, he insists he isn’t scared.
“The United States has my back,” he said.
Mr. Boassen, 51, a former bricklayer, is a fervid supporter of President Trump. He campaigned for him in the United States and helped coordinate Donald Trump Jr.’s visit to Greenland this year. On his coffee table at home, three pristine MAGA hats occupy a place of honor.
While his championing of the American president — who has vowed to take over Greenland “one way or the other” — has made Mr. Boassen unpopular at home, it has also turned him into an unlikely political player in the Arctic, a region of growing importance in a warming world eager for its untapped resources.
As he lounged on a couch in his apartment on the edge of Nuuk, wearing a pink T-shirt emblazoned with Mr. Trump’s face, his phone buzzed with a stream of texts from journalists and filmmakers who wanted to talk and investors who hoped he was their ticket to riches in Greenland.
In the debate about the future of the world’s largest island, a semiautonomous overseas territory of Denmark, Mr. Boassen has made it his mission to bring Greenland and the United States closer together.
Still, Mr. Boassen noted he “doesn’t always agree” with the American president.
While Mr. Trump wants to claim the island for the United States, Mr. Boassen is pushing instead for a tight security alliance between an independent Greenland and Washington. That has made him one of the most visible Greenlanders agitating to break with Denmark.
“Denmark has failed again and again,” he said. “They are not up to the challenge of defending Greenland.”
He has cultivated high-level contacts in Greenland’s government and has spent the past few months working full time for an organization promoting closer U.S.-Greenland ties.
“Greenland’s future looks brightest with America,” Mr. Boassen said.
His transformation from bricklayer to political player began by posting prolifically on social media in support of Mr. Trump: sharing memes, defending him in comment threads and explaining his politics to a Greenlandic audience. Last year, those posts caught the eye of Tom Dans, a former Trump adviser for Arctic affairs.
“I got curious,” Mr. Dans said in an interview. “There aren’t many people in that part of the world standing up for Trump.”
Mr. Dans, who used to work at the conservative Heritage Foundation, sponsored Mr. Boassen to attend a Trump campaign event in Pittsburgh last fall. During the final stretch, Mr. Boassen went door to door for Mr. Trump in Pennsylvania.
The Greenlander says he loves Mr. Trump’s direct communication style and that “he’s a good person, once you study him.”
Born in Qaqortoq, a small coastal town in southern Greenland, Mr. Boassen was raised by a single mother and maternal grandmother with little money, in a modest home with little heat — a markedly different upbringing from that of his political idol.
A quiet child, he became fascinated with politics through VHS tapes, books and television — “the only way to see the outside world,” he said.
After drifting through a string of jobs, he settled on bricklayer, building houses in Denmark.
But after being discovered on social media, he now serves as Greenland director for American Daybreak, a nonprofit organization founded by Mr. Dans that promotes closer U.S.-Greenland ties.
He and Mr. Dans say that he met Mr. Trump Jr. at the campaign’s election night party, where he suggested a future visit to Greenland.
Though Mr. Boassen said he doesn’t have direct access to Mr. Trump Jr., he said he communicates with the Trump team through Mr. Dans.
In March, American Daybreak helped promote a visit by Usha Vance, Vice President JD Vance’s wife, to Greenland’s national dog sled race. But after reports of planned protests by Greenlandic activists, the visit was changed to a brief stop by the Vances at a remote U.S. military outpost on the island.
Despite its ambitions, American Daybreak’s website still reads, “Coming soon,” and its social media presence is limited to photographs of Mr. Dans in Greenland and Mr. Boassen posing with figures like Nigel Farage, Conor McGregor and Senator Ted Cruz.
Although many of Greenland’s 56,000 people want independence, a recent opinion poll showed 85 percent of them didn’t want to become part of the United States.
And some are dismissive of Mr. Boassen’s efforts. “He’s just riding the populist wave,” said Frederik Kreutzmann, a social worker in Sisimiut, Greenland’s second-largest town. “I don’t think much of him.”
While Mr. Boassen knows that some think he’s being used, he believes he’s part of something bigger — and wants Greenland to seize the moment while it still has Mr. Trump’s attention.
“I’m part of world history now,” Mr. Boassen said. “Maybe I’m just a pawn in a bigger game,” he added. “Politics is dirty, but if we don’t move fast, we’ll miss our chance.”
