The United States boasts the world’s largest defence budget and cutting-edge military technology, yet it faces a quiet vulnerability: an 80 percent dependency on China for rare earth elements (REEs).

This reliance is not just economic, it’s a strategic threat to national security, military superiority, and technological sovereignty.

It raises deeper questions about foreign policy decisions, including Donald Trump’s provocative proposal to “buy” Greenland, a move once mocked but increasingly seen through a geopolitical lens. 

Rare earth elements are critical to US defence systems: F-35 fighter jets, hypersonic missiles, radar arrays, and advanced batteries all depend on them. 

Beyond extraction, China controls about 85 percent of global REE processing capacity, a monopoly that magnifies the risk. 

According to experts, this is not merely an economic issue—it constitutes a direct national security risk. A 2024 analysis by the RAND Corporation warns that a supply chain disruption lasting just 90 days could force 78 percent of US defence contractors to shut down production lines.

This alarming scenario recasts Trump’s interest in Greenland and Canada.

As Dr. Jesper Willaing Zeuthen, an Arctic geopolitics expert at Aalborg University, explains: “The minerals are possible to mine outside China, but China has control over almost all of the processing plants. This may in part be because China is willing to pay the huge environmental cost of this type of processing.”

Zeuthen’s insight reframes the challenge not simply as a question of access, but of industrial capacity and political will—factors that have long shaped China’s dominance in this field.

What, where, and why so critical?

REEs comprise 17 metallic elements, including the 15 lanthanides on the periodic table along with scandium and yttrium. 

Their names—such as neodymium (Nd), dysprosium (Dy), terbium (Tb), praseodymium (Pr), and yttrium (Y)—may sound unfamiliar to the general public, but these materials are indispensable to modern technology. 

Military systems, renewable energy infrastructure, medical imaging devices, and even the average smartphone would either fail to operate or perform far less efficiently without them.

To illustrate: a single F-35 fighter jet contains approximately 420 kilograms of REEs, while a 3 MW wind turbine uses about two tons of neodymium-based magnets. 

In smartphones, the vivid display quality is made possible by components containing yttrium and terbium. In this sense, REEs form the invisible yet vital nervous system of the modern world.

Despite being plentiful in the Earth’s crust, REEs are difficult and toxic to extract in usable form. 

China’s willingness to bear these environmental burdens has helped it dominate both mining and processing.

How China gained dominance

China’s dominance is not the result of coincidence, but of long-term strategic planning and state-backed investment. 

As early as the 1980s, the Chinese government began channelling significant public resources into rare earth mining and processing infrastructure, having foreseen their future importance. 

This investment coincided with a growing reluctance in the West to continue REE production due to stricter environmental regulations and high operational costs—offering China a golden opportunity on a silver platter.

By the 2000s, China had managed to drastically reduce production costs through low labour wages and lax environmental standards. 

Through export incentives and tax breaks, it gained the ability to manipulate global prices, undercutting international competitors and discouraging investment in alternative supply chains. By 2010, China controlled 90 percent of the global REE market.

This dominance provided not just economic leverage but also political influence. One of the most notable examples occurred in 2010, when China halted REE exports to Japan following a sovereignty dispute in the East China Sea. 

The move demonstrated that Beijing was not afraid to weaponise these resources for geo-political gain. In the aftermath, countries such as Japan, Australia, and the US began reassessing their dependence on Chinese rare earths.

This trend only intensified over the following decade. 

In 2022, amid rising tensions in the Taiwan Strait, China reduced its REE export quotas by 40 percent—prompting not only economic concern but also security-related anxiety. 

In 2025, newly introduced export controls targeted neodymium and dysprosium, aiming to put pressure on production across critical sectors such as electric vehicles, wind energy, and defence.

All of these actions align with China’s “Made in China 2025” strategy—a comprehensive plan designed to transform the country from a raw material exporter into a global hub for high-tech REE components. 

This would allow China to reduce its own dependence on foreign technology while consolidating dominance over global supply chains.

Greenland and Canada: Decoding a geopolitical move

Understanding the value of REEs makes Trump’s Greenland proposal more understandable.

Greenland is not only positioned at a highly strategic location in the Arctic—it also holds some of the world’s largest reserves of rare earth elements. 

In particular, heavy REEs such as dysprosium and terbium are found in high concentrations in the Kvanefjeld region in the island’s southwest, a site eyed by Chinese firm Shenghe. 

“Shenghe, a semi-private Chinese firm, acquired a stake in the Kvanefjeld project, but the Greenlandic government later halted development for environmental reasons. Shenghe told me they were not actively seeking investments in Greenland—rather, they were pulled in by Australian mining firms and local interest,” Dr Zeuthen tells TRT World. 

Greenland’s potential isn’t limited to REEs alone. The island is also rich in uranium, zinc, and other critical metals, further elevating its geoeconomic and geopolitical value. 

These factors suggest Trump’s proposal was not a wild impulse but a calculated response to China’s expanding resource influence—a proactive strategy in an emerging global resource conflict.

Canada represents another key piece in this strategic chessboard. The world’s second-largest country by landmass also possesses substantial REE deposits—particularly in its northern and western regions, where neodymium and praseodymium are abundant. 

What’s more striking is China’s growing investment in Canadian mining companies in recent years.

This has caused rising concern within the United States. The idea that REE reserves located in “allied territory” could fall under indirect Chinese control is increasingly seen as a threat to US national security. 

By 2023, both the US Congress and the Pentagon began monitoring Canadian mining partnerships with Chinese entities more closely. Some US senators even accused China of using Canada as a “Trojan horse” in the rare earth supply chain.

These moves suggest Trump’s overture was not diplomatic theatre but part of a broader effort to secure critical mineral access. 

The search for alternatives: How realistic are they?

Efforts to break the dependency are accelerating. At the centre of this push is the Round Top Project in Texas, which holds an estimated 130,000 tons of REE reserves across 16 different elements. 

The project, run by USA Rare Earth, aims to meet 20 percent of the domestic US demand by 2027. The company is also building a $100 million magnet production facility in Oklahoma, expected to process 2,000 tons of rare earth materials annually. 

Federal funding is also increasing. The 2025 National Defense Authorization Act includes $1.2 billion for stockpiling and $350 million for domestic development. 

These funds are being distributed among US-based firms such as MP Materials and incentivise the establishment of domestic processing infrastructure.

Internationally, the US is working with Australia’s Lynas Corporation and the EU’s REEsilience Initiative to diversify sources. 

Yet, several serious challenges remain. Chief among them is time. RAND estimates it will take the US at least a decade and $10 - $15 billion to build a self-sufficient REE supply chain. This includes infrastructure investments, permitting processes, environmental compliance, and workforce training. 

Recycling technologies also offer promise. Apple’s “Daisy” robot can recover 98 percent of rare earths from iPhones. 

Meanwhile, the US Department of Energy launched the ReElement Program, a $50 million initiative aimed at achieving 90 percent REE recovery from EV batteries by 2025. However, these systems are not yet widespread, and their measurable contribution to the economy remains limited.

Silent casualties of the new race

Rare earth elements may be indispensable to advanced technologies, but the process of extracting them from the earth comes with often overlooked costs. 

Traditional REE mining and processing techniques involve acidic solutions, heavy metals, and sometimes even radioactive waste. In China’s Inner Mongolia, for example, these practices have led to environmental disasters—contaminated river systems, barren farmlands, and widespread public health crises.

In countries like the US, where environmental regulations are strict, such operations require lengthy permitting processes. As a result, REE projects in the US tend to be slower and far more expensive. 

China, by contrast, continues to dominate the market thanks to its loose regulatory framework and corresponding price advantage. 

Nevertheless, cleaner production methods are emerging. New-generation techniques involving supercritical CO₂ and biological solvents have the potential to reduce waste by up to 85 percent. 

Companies like USA Rare Earth are attempting to stay competitive while adopting environmentally responsible practices.

But the issue extends beyond environmental damage. Many critical mineral deposits are located on lands inhabited or claimed by Indigenous communities. 

For example, the Kvanefjeld deposit in Greenland is close to traditional Inuit territories. While Danish authorities have shown caution, the Greenlandic government supports the project for its economic potential. Still, local Indigenous groups have raised strong objections over environmental risks, health concerns, and cultural degradation.

As Zeuthen notes: “China appears to have pulled out of Greenland due to political costs. Although Shenghe still holds a stake in the project, local resistance and government restrictions have effectively halted development.”

Similar tensions are unfolding in the US, where several REE projects near Navajo and Apache lands have sparked protests and legal challenges.

These frictions reveal that investments in critical minerals are no longer merely geostrategic—they are also deeply intertwined with questions of social justice, public health, and environmental ethics. 

In democratic nations, such debates are more transparent and tend to slow down the pace of development. In contrast, authoritarian regimes can ignore these sensitivities and move faster, creating an inherent structural imbalance in global competition.

In the end, access to rare earth elements is not just an economic or strategic concern—it serves as a litmus test for the future of the planet, the rights of local communities, and the sustainability of our development models.

A new cold war

For years, rare earth elements were regarded primarily through the lens of industrial supply chains. 

But recent developments suggest these materials are now far more than just raw commodities. In the growing contest between the US and China over technology, supply chains, and intelligence, rare earths have emerged as a strategic weapon.

In 2018, following US sanctions against Huawei and the restriction of its access to American components, China threatened to retaliate by limiting rare earth exports. 

At the time, Chinese officials openly declared that controlling the inputs for advanced semiconductor production was equivalent to controlling the technological future of their rivals. 

This marked a turning point in how rare earths were perceived—not just as resources, but as geopolitical leverage.

By 2025, China had tightened its export controls on elements like neodymium and dysprosium, directly affecting production timelines in the defence sector. 

A US Air Force review warned that these restrictions could slow down F-35 production and delay radar system deliveries. Japan, South Korea, and Germany also reported disruptions in their supply chains.

These moves show that rare earths have become the silent ammunition of a new Cold War—a conflict not fought through territorial occupation, but through supply chain dominance, regulatory tools, and technological embargoes.

China’s control over rare earth processing, particularly in key areas such as semiconductors, artificial intelligence, and military hardware, is putting sustained pressure on the West.

In response, the US has launched not only domestic initiatives but also international consolidation efforts. 

Joint projects with Japan, Canada, and Australia, supply chain agreements with the European Union, and new mining ventures across Africa are all part of a broader containment strategy aimed at reducing dependency on China.

Still, the success of these strategies remains uncertain. China is not just the world’s largest producer of rare earths—it leads in refining, magnet production, and downstream applications. To catch up, the US will need not only time, but sustained political commitment and uninterrupted investment.

Access to REEs is no longer a back-office supply chain issue. It defines national power.

Trump’s Greenland gambit and increased US investment in domestic REE infrastructure are part of a broader recognition; the next geopolitical battlegrounds will be shaped not just by arms or diplomacy, but by mines and materials. 

“It is not just about the minerals. It is about what a country is willing to do on its own territory. China took the risk and built an entire rare earth industrial ecosystem. The US and Europe may have the resources, but without that same will, they will remain behind,” Zeuthen adds.