Can the United States defend the Arctic alone?

Friday 8 February 2026

The question of whether the United States Armed Forces presently possess sufficient skills and resources to maintain a credible military deterrence in the Arctic, without her European partners, goes to the heart of Washington’s wider strategic predicament. The Arctic is no longer a remote theatre defined primarily by ice, scientific research and occasional submarine patrols. It is becoming a contested geopolitical space, shaped by climate change, commercial ambition and renewed great-power rivalry. In that environment the United States finds herself powerful but incomplete when acting alone.

The United States retains formidable raw capabilities relevant to the Arctic. Her nuclear-powered submarine fleet remains the most capable under-ice force in the world, with decades of experience operating beneath polar ice caps. Strategic bombers can reach the high north from bases in the continental United States, Alaska and Greenland, and long-range surveillance assets provide a broad picture of Arctic air and maritime activity. Alaska itself offers a significant military foothold, hosting air defence units, fighter squadrons and early-warning infrastructure oriented towards the polar approaches.

Yet deterrence in the Arctic is not merely a question of peak military technology or global reach. It depends upon sustained presence, environmental familiarity and the ability to operate routinely, not exceptionally, in some of the world’s most hostile conditions. It is here that the United States’ limitations become clear. Her surface fleet is notably weak in ice-capable vessels. The United States operates only a small number of heavy and medium icebreakers, a deficiency long acknowledged by American policymakers but only slowly addressed. Without sufficient ice-hardened surface ships, persistent maritime presence north of the Arctic Circle is difficult to maintain, and deterrence risks becoming episodic rather than continuous.

Operational skills present a parallel challenge. Cold-weather warfare demands specialised training in logistics, maintenance, mobility and human endurance. European Arctic states have cultivated such expertise over generations. Norway, Canada and Denmark (through Greenland) field forces accustomed to operating in extreme cold, darkness and isolation. Their armed forces train routinely in Arctic conditions, not as an adjunct to other missions but as a core competence. The United States, by contrast, has historically prioritised expeditionary warfare in temperate or arid environments. While she has made renewed efforts to revive cold-weather training, these initiatives remain limited in scale and depth when compared to those of her European partners.

Geography further constrains American autonomy in the Arctic. The region is characterised by narrow maritime chokepoints, dispersed coastlines and overlapping exclusive economic zones. Effective deterrence requires local infrastructure: ports, airfields, fuel depots, repair facilities and search-and-rescue capabilities. Much of this infrastructure is owned, operated or hosted by European allies. Even Greenland, while strategically vital to the United States, is politically and administratively linked to Denmark. Operating without European consent and cooperation would therefore impose practical and political limits on American freedom of action.

The strategic environment also matters. Russia has invested heavily in Arctic militarisation, reopening Soviet-era bases, expanding her icebreaker fleet and integrating the Arctic into her nuclear deterrence posture. China, while not an Arctic state, has declared herself a “near-Arctic” power and is pursuing scientific, commercial and potentially military footholds in the region. Deterring such actors credibly requires not only military assets but political cohesion and legitimacy. A unilateral American posture risks appearing thin, overstretched or even provocative, whereas a collective presence anchored in alliances conveys durability and shared resolve.

This brings North Atlantic Treaty Organization to the centre of the analysis. NATO’s Arctic and high-north members provide precisely those capabilities the United States lacks when acting alone: ice-capable navies, cold-weather ground forces, local intelligence and a dense network of bases and infrastructure. The credibility of deterrence in the Arctic derives less from American dominance than from allied integration. Exercises conducted jointly, forces deployed together and command structures shared across the Atlantic communicate that any challenge in the Arctic would trigger a collective response rather than a bilateral confrontation with Washington.

In isolation, the United States can still project power into the Arctic and, in extremis, deny an adversary freedom of action. Her nuclear forces, submarines and long-range aviation ensure that she cannot be excluded from the region militarily. However, deterrence is not simply about the ability to fight and win a war; it is about convincing potential adversaries that conflict is both unlikely to succeed and certain to incur unacceptable costs. Without European partners, American deterrence in the Arctic would be narrower, more brittle and more easily tested at the margins.

The conclusion therefore is not that the United States is weak in the Arctic, but that she is structurally incomplete on her own. The Arctic is a theatre where geography, climate and history favour those who operate collectively and locally. American power remains indispensable, but it is European partnership that transforms it into a credible, resilient and enduring deterrent. Without that partnership the United States would still be present in the Arctic, but she would no longer set the terms upon which stability there is preserved.