This big Arctic island with a tiny population holds early parliamentary elections Tuesday that are being closely watched. U.S. President Donald Trump has made clear he wants to take control of the region that occupies a strategic North Atlantic location and contains rare earth minerals key to driving the global economy.

Trump’s overtures aren’t on the ballot, but they are on everyone’s minds.

This self-governing region of Denmark is home to 56,000 people, most from Indigenous Inuit backgrounds. It has been on a path toward independence since at least 2009. Now, Greenlanders are debating the best way to ensure they control their future.

“I think most of us have been scared since the new year because of (Trump’s) interest,” Pipaluk Lynge, a member of parliament from the ruling Inuit Ataqatigiit, or United Inuit party, told The Associated Press. “So we’re really, really looking to Europe right now to see if we could establish a stronger bond with them to secure our sovereign nation.”

Opinion polls show most Greenlanders favor independence.

Most say they don’t dislike Americans, pointing to the good relations they have with the local Pituffik Space Base, formerly Thule Air Force Base, where U.S. military personnel have been stationed since 1951.

But Greenlanders show no sign of wanting to become Americans. Even some of Trump’s biggest fans cling to the principle that they should control their destiny. That includes Gerth Josefsen, a 53-year-old fisherman from Nuuk who sports a MAGA hat and is proud to have visited Mar-a-Lago, Trump’s Florida home.

Their mantra is that Greenland is open for business, but not for sale.

“The situation has changed because of Trump and because of the world,” said Doris Jensen, representative of the social democratic Siumut party who said she has always favored independence, “So we have decided in our party that we have to do (it) more quickly.”

Trump’s attention has transformed the deeply local process of democracy. Suddenly, the presence of journalists from as far away as Japan and Croatia are reminders that these are far from normal times.

After candidates’ final televised debate at a school auditorium in Nuuk, Prime Minister Mute Bourup Egede was greeted by about 75 supporters who were almost outnumbered by photographers and cameramen.

“All these reporters are frightening to us,’’ said Aviaja Sinkbaek, who works at the school. “It means that something must be happening soon.”

She added: “I wonder what Trump has up his sleeve.”

Politics in Greenland have a different rhythm. Debates during campaigning rarely got heated. People who became too animated were asked to step outside. Issues included building a skilled workforce and how to decorate the new airport, which opened a runway long enough to handle jumbo jets in November.

On Tuesday, the capital’s lone polling station at the Nuuk sports hall will have political parties pitching tents outside, with campaigners offering hot drinks and Greenlandic cake — a raisin-laced bread served with butter — in hopes of swaying voters.

A bus will circle the city of about 20,000 people, offering rides.

Unofficial election results should be available soon after polls close, but they won’t be certified for weeks as ballot papers make their way to the capital from remote settlements by boat, plane and helicopter.

That’s because there are no roads connecting communities across the island’s 2.16 million square kilometers (836,330 square miles), which make Greenland the world’s 12th biggest country.

Now the vast size has drawn outsize attention.

Greenlanders know what they have. They hope the rare earth minerals will help diversify an economy where government jobs account for 40% of employment.

But the government has imposed strict rules to protect the environment on the island, most of which is covered by ice year-round. The harsh atmospheric conditions raise questions about whether extracting them is commercially feasible.

Hurricane-strength gusts over the weekend triggered warnings for boats and building materials to be securely tied down. As the wind howled like a revving jet engine, local people retreated to their homes to play board games.