Kangerlussuaq, a small settlement centred around what is, until autumn 2024, Greenland’s main international airport, has a golf course. 18 holes, rendered unplayable by snow, ice and near-constant darkness for 3 months, and sporadically by rainfall across its polar desert location for the remainder of the year. Sitting a few kilometres outside town, it has a derelict shack serving in the loosest sense as a clubhouse. Its tattered flags flank the only ‘road’ leading to the ice cap. The place has the air of a wasteland, abandoned a number of years ago. As a relic of the US Air Force’s cold war involvement in what was then known as the Sondrestrom airbase, it is reflective of just how quickly the brutal environment can reclaim what was 20 years ago the topic of a New York Times article. Tours to the ice cap pass this point, and returning to civilisation the following day, this time in the midst of a downpour, it seemed extraordinary that such an attraction had ever existed at all. For this is a brutal place of around 500 people, far from any other habitation, which also happens to be at the centre of Greenland’s present, and reflective of its future.
With the Greenlandic economy heavily reliant on shrimp and fish exports and Danish government subsidies, the expansion of tourist infrastructure is a key governmental strategy to diversify. This requires investment, most significantly in transport links to allow international passengers easier access to the ice fjord of Ilulissat, Greenland’s pre-eminent tourist attraction. Whilst cruise traffic had been increasing year on year pre-pandemic, the Arctic Umiaq Line, which runs ferry services up and down the west coast, was fully taken under the umbrella of the Royal Arctic freight carrier, itself government-owned and hence reliant on Danish subsidies, in 2015. It currently only runs one ferry per week, an essential service rather than an asset in enabling exploration of the country. Ferry travel is currently complicated when arriving from overseas — if a domestic flight from Kangerlussuaq is required to get to the ferry port in Nuuk regardless, why not just fly from Kangerlussuaq to Ilulissat, for example? Investment in airport runways at Nuuk, the capital, and Ilulissat, represent an attempt to diversify access away from the one regular commercial flight per day which currently leaves Copenhagen for Kangerlussuaq.
This change may be necessary, but the reason for it happening now is familiar, shared with many places across the Arctic tundra. The airport at Kangerlussuaq is sinking. At a rate of 2.66cm a year at one end between 1988 and 2017, the concrete runway subsiding into melting permafrost. At the same time, it is cracking, as a constant annual cycle of freezing and thawing in the variable local climate breaks it apart. Relocation is complicated, given that despite these issues Kangerlussuaq has the most suitable climate of all possible locations, largely free from the coastal winds that batter Nuuk and Ilulissat. Still, it must happen, so when Kangerlussuaq airport is decommissioned this summer, the small settlement will need a way of reclaiming its tourism, and Greenland a way of making the ice cap accessible.
In recent years, before relocation was decided upon, efforts to build a road across the tundra were ramped up by the Qeqqata regional authority. At present, this is no more than an all terrain vehicle (ATV) track, following part of the route of the Arctic Circle Trail, a 160km hiking trail from Kangerlussuaq to Sisimiut. The track in its current form impacts the isolated feeling of the trail, which despite being a tourist draw to Greenland cannot contribute much to the local economy, as most hikers bring food in and stay off grid for far more time than they are in hotels.
Plans exist for the near future to transform the ATV track into a proper gravel road, to be usable by 4x4s, making easier access to Kangerlussuaq possible. Alongside this a new Southern route for the Arctic Circle Trail has been mapped out, which should enable road and trail to exist separately for much of their span. When the ATV track is gradually expanded, in stages as and when the budget becomes available, it will be Greenland’s first ever road between settlements. It is in no way certain how quickly this project will progress, especially as the airport move has become a going concern since the first stages. Proudly displayed, in English, on maps showing the road’s route in both Kangerlussuaq and Sisimiut, is the title “The Road to Freedom”.
Any development here, though, is riven with contradictions. The Arctic is suffering the effects of climate change, with the region warming 3x faster than the global average. Whilst officially the road to the ice cap from Kangerlussuaq ends at point 660, the ice cap at this location has not been six hundred and sixty feet above sea level for many years, if it ever was, and a walk is required to access the ice itself.
As the ice cap melts at an increasing rate, greater volumes of water are present in local rivers, and with more water evaporation and precipitation increase, in summer mainly as rainfall. In summer 2023, the ATV track was in many places sloping dangerously into the large lakes en-route, swelled to beyond their usual levels. In Sisimiut, where according to a local resident it had rained in some form every day for at least a month, the drizzle was constant.
But what is Greenland to do? Emissions and changes happening on the island itself are not in any way responsible for these impacts. As it inches towards independence from Denmark, a future Greenlandic economy would need sources of revenue in the absence of current Danish subsidies. This revenue could come from freight, as Arctic sea routes open up in future, or from resource extraction, though the 2021 election as prime minister of Mute Bourup Egede, from the left-wing Inuit Ataqatigiit party, signified a sharp slowdown to mining. Recent moves towards a closer relationship with the United States might make exploitation inevitable in future, as future presidents look to secure both rare earth elements and establish new Arctic defences.
In any case, the huge uncertainties associated with the Arctic region as climate change shapes environmental futures mean tourism development is necessary as a contributor to Greenlandic self-determination. The paradoxical nature of developing tourism based on pristine environments whilst at the same time degrading those environments seems tragically unavoidable. Whatever the Qeqqata regional authority does with the road, it pales into insignificance relative to the current pushback against Green policies across Europe and continuing reluctance of major polluters globally to accelerate a clean energy transition.
In practice, the road will change, expand and diversify tourism in the region. Those who want the isolated experience along the Arctic Circle Trail can use the Southern route, though for much of summer 2023 this was effectively impassable due to the weather conditions, and in time other trails through the tundra may emerge along the east coast.
The impact this would have on the habitats of native wildlife — reindeer, musk ox, Arctic hare — may be limited, but there would be an impact nonetheless. In a 2020 interview for Polar Connection, Malik Berthelsen, mayor of Qeqqata municipality, emphasised the protection of endangered Greenlandic geese in route selection, relative to large reindeer populations. Berthelsen also highlighted the potential for hotels along the old route, for luxury hiking and hunting experiences. In simple terms of the number of people who have access to nature this can be seen as a positive, but what type of nature is this, and who is it for?
Problems of accessibility already exist — return flights to Kangerlussuaq from Copenhagen cost around £800. That with a road and hotels a new exclusive element will be added would be of limited concern to those who cannot access the trail regardless. The tundra environment is stunning, losing any element of what makes this wilderness so special would be a travesty.
Greenland’s development will happen in some form, and that has the potential to be a positive for locals, many of whom suffered repression from the colonial Danish government throughout the 20th century, including forced contraception. But it is difficult not to feel unease about the changes being forced on the environment of this part of the world, and about the tradeoffs necessary to bring prosperity in a rapidly shifting system.
Maybe, in the decades and centuries to come, as Greenland warms and becomes more hospitable to unspecialised flora and fauna, more plants will grow and sandy banks will become topped with layers of soil. Maybe the new road, by then finished and opened to tour bus traffic, will bring thousands of tourists to luxury retreats throughout the tundra, offering bitesized wilderness experiences for premium customers. Maybe the flags of Kangerlussuaq golf course will flutter with purpose once more. All of this is unlikely in the near future; progress is slow and cautious, environmental concerns likely to be respected. But with Greenland’s future development the main goal, conflicts between environment and economy are inevitable. The precise form they will take is yet to be determined. In the Arctic of today, the only certainty is uncertainty.
