Reykjavík Grapevine - 02.06.2006, Side 12

“Here, give me that,” said a baseball cap-wear-
ing man to a friend of his, who was drinking
water out of a bottle emblazoned with X-D,
the sign of the Independence Party. They were
standing by a table outside the X-D campaign
office where a large number of bottles had been
placed for people to take at their leisure.
Once he had been handed the bottle, he
picked at the label, tore it off and stomped on
it a few times for good measure, and handed
the bottle back to his friend. “There we go,
much better now.”
...which pretty much summed up the
mood in downtown Reykjavík on the day of
the mayoral elections. Everyone had pitched
their support and stood proudly by their chosen
camp, and assumed an attitude of bigot-like
hatred for anything any member of any other
party stood for, which is surprising consider-
ing the general similarity between the various
campaign promises.
Oh sure, there were superficial differences,
some of them surprisingly bold stances: The
Social Democrats had all but promised to put a
leash on the irreverent dambuilders, an attitude
that was conspicuously absent when they still
had the chance to stop anything; the Liberals
and the Independence Party both had very de-
tailed solutions to housing problems that didn’t
really seem to factor in things such as the
environment and financing, both government
(the cost of actually building the new houses)
and personal (the cost of buying or renting said
houses). The Leftist-Greens wanted to put up
large amounts of parking meters everywhere to
encourage people to drive less. Their solution?
Bikes.
At least they had their head in the right
place. The Progressive Party seemed to think
that making everything look flashy, snappy
and/or dandy would solve problems. A tunnel
through Öskjuhlíð, the hill on which architec-
tural mishap Perlan sits, would no doubt be
very cool indeed, as would having our children
wear smart-looking school uniforms. Ostensi-
bly, their purpose would be to reduce income-
based bullying, which leads me to believe that
the Progressives’ information regarding life in
school is about 50 years past its sell-by date.
So other than idiosyncratic tidbits, what
exactly differentiated the promises each of the
mayoral candidates was dishing out like so
much confetti? Lofty and unrealistic ideals and
celebrity support. Sure, voting to the left would
certainly be showing one’s displeasure over
the presence of an aluminium smelter in the
desolate and beautiful Icelandic outback, but I
feel fairly certain that the mayor of Reykjavik’s
jurisdiction does not extend to any proposed
building site.
Yet, next to the apparently mind-boggling
issue of where Reykjavík’s domestic airport
should be located, it was these ideals that drove
most of the mayoral campaigns in Reykjavík
this year. Confused youths who innocently
asked a volunteer at the X-D office if he was
against the smelters were soon in a shouting
match with the man, who eventually threw his
hands up in exasperation, saying “Well, when
you get old, you can have the smelter disman-
tled, that’s fine by me. But it’s getting built.”
The Leftist-Greens had already made
their stance on the matter abundantly clear
from the very beginning, and simply settled
for peppering their near-invisible advertising
campaign with vague statements on how “natu-
ral resources belong to the Icelandic people,
and should be used for the good of the people
without damage to the environment.”
And as for celebrity support, well, that
can always do just as much harm as good. At
the X-D youth office, ugly rumours regarding
an incident in which award-winning author
Hallgrímur Helgason bullied two of the X-D
youth who were spreading pamphlets were cir-
culating. Apparently, he and Social Democrat
mayoral candidate Dagur Eggertsson compared
the pamphlet’s title to Nazi slogans before the
inebriated Hallgrímur shoved the pamphlets to
the ground, drawing guffaws from Dagur and
the several other X-S supporters and candi-
dates present.
True or not, the fact that the story was
being told at all was a testament to the
Independence Party’s defensiveness this late
in the game. Although the polls had all but
promised them victory, their offices were a hive
of nervous activity, leading me to believe once
again in the value of persistence: If you pester
somebody long enough, you’ll get his vote
eventually.
Further reinforcing this opinion was the
fact that the very unpopular Progressive Party’s
campaign office turned out to be in a different
postal area than all the others. Lodged in be-
tween corporate outlets and phone companies
on Suðurlandsbraut, it was the kind of place
you could only drive to, perhaps so people
could better grasp their highway-riddled future
vision of Reykjavík.
The inside of the office was like a cross
between the wedding scene in The Godfather
and a birthday in an old folks’ home. A hand-
shake was obligatory, while backslapping was
only recommended, if heavily encouraged. Not
for us, that is. The Grapevine’s reporters were
met with cold and unwelcoming stares that left
little doubt as to their opinion of us and our
being there.
Prime Minister Halldór Ásgrímsson was
there, looking more confused than ever inside
his own party’s campaign office, and responded
to the Grapevine’s photographer’s instructions
to pose holding an X-B balloon with reflexes
suggesting he’d spent the better part of the day
mixing alcohol with Xanax and Ketamine. The
balloon then proceeded to symbolically fall
apart as soon as he handed it back.
Doddering prime ministers aside, the air
of unwelcomeness remained as I wandered
the premises. A particularly hostile group
approached me looking for all the world like
an 18th century press gang with their sinister
leering.
“Well, I can see you’re not here to vote,”
said one of them.
“Hardly,” I said, trying to remain unfazed.
“Well, then what exactly are you doing
poking around here?”
“Uh, just looking for a friend of mine,” I
said, trying to locate my fellow reporter out of
the corner of my eye.
“You’ll find the exit over there, friend,” the
man said, drawing a chuckle from the others.
Disgusted, I took their suggestion and hur-
ried out as soon as possible, ashamed I had ever
walked in in the first place. I felt tainted by the
clammy, partisan-like unholiness of the whole
thing in general, the disturbing sides that
politics brought out in people. Oh well, at least
the Progressives didn’t resort to square-danc-
ing in public like the Liberals did to win some
last-minute votes.
A sense of frustration permeated the air at
the Social Democrat office, with people rush-
ing in and out to conduct various last-minute
errands before the hammer fell. Knowing that
the polls had pretty much depicted them as the
only hope of keeping Reykjavík on the left was
evidently pushing them to the limit.
And as for the Leftists, well, they put up a
heated tent and made waffles. Aside from two
people arguing over finances in the doorway,
things were very calm at the Leftist-Green
office, and I was glad to see a quiet sort of
righteous dignity in the people there, the kind
of calm that comes with doing what you think
is right without having advertised it across
town. Although it may have cost them votes,
they seemed somehow aloof from the weird,
vicious tension seething below the surface in
the other offices.
The Exit’s Over There, Friend
by sindri eldon photo by frikki
“The hardest thing was to be so angry, and yet to be
able to write a constructive book, and not get lost in
name calling, to keep my integrity, although I was not
really impartial. The book is created from a lot of anger
and the main reason behind me writing it was that I
was angry.”
election day coverage election day coverage
large number of Independence Party members
had gathered to follow the elections. Those in
attendance were jubilant, and eagerly waited to
see if they would manage to secure their eighth
representative on City Council to secure a
majority.
The face of their primary candidate was
on a giant TV screen at one end of the room,
speaking to members of the media and his
supporters hung on to his every word, cheer-
ing and clapping at all the right places. Even
if their support was hovering just above 40%,
instead of the 50% the most optimistic of polls
had projected them, they felt and looked like
winners.
At the nearby Hotel Ísland, the Social
Democrats had set up their camp for the night.
There were decidedly fewer of them in at-
tendance than I had expected. Perhaps the ap-
palling first numbers from the vote count had
diminished their spirits somewhat. They had
set their eyes on five representatives, even eye-
ing the sixth as an outside chance. The results
were not particularly encouraging. According
to the latest count, they had only managed four
representatives, and the fifth one seemed a very
distant possibility.
Stefán Jón Hafstein, the third person on
the Social Democrats ticket, looked heartbro-
ken as I approached him. “This does not look
good,” he sighed. “This is not what we had in
mind, we expected more support.”
“But, on the bright side, at least we man-
aged to prevent the Independence Party from
receiving a clean majority.”
Do you have any idea how things will
continue?, I asked him.
“Well, obviously the Independence Party will
form a coalition with one of the small parties.”
When I entered the Progressive Party’s
gathering in the downtown Þjóðleikhúskjallar-
inn, Björn Ingi Hrafnsson was giving a speech
to his supporters. “We led the discourse during
the campaign.” he said while his supporters
cheered wildly. “The battle was fought on our
turf, even if we were not projected to do well.”
“This is a victory for the party as a unit.
Tomorrow, the reconstruction will begin.”
The Progressive Party had lost one seat on
City Council and seen its support plummet to a
paltry 6.3%. Most people would have consid-
ered this a losing campaign, but Hrafnsson,
whose party, just a week ago, was only at 3%,
had reason to be happy. Now, his seat on City
Council meant that his party was in a pivotal
position.
With the Independence Party needing one
seat to form a coalition majority to take over
City Hall, and the two parties working in a
coalition in parliament, a co-operation in City
Hall between the Independent Party and the
Progressive Party looked very possible, despite
the fact that the party was on the brink of
extinction.
Hrafnsson was ecstatic as I asked him
about his position; “Yes,” he said with big
grin. “We will talk to the other parties, I feel
very good about our position,” he said as he
skittered past me to accept pats on the back
and exchange kisses with equally ecstatic party
members.
The other small party, the Liberals were just
as happy as the Progressives. Having secured
one representative in City Hall by increasing
their support from 6.3% to a respectable 10.1%
of all votes. Ólafur F. Magnússon had managed
to secure his seat on City Council and was in
high spirits as I approached him.
“I am extremely happy with the results. It is
a clear demand on behalf of the voters that our
voice will be represented in a coalition majority.”
Magnússon’s phone rang and he hur-
ried into a corner to talk in private. When he
returned I asked him if the other parties were al-
ready contacting him. “Well, this was not a call
from any of the other parties, but some of them
have talked to me already. I am just waiting for
them to call so we can begin formal discussions.”
The Aftermath
When all votes had been counted, and all
the numbers were in, the position had not
changed significantly. The Independence
Party still had 7 representatives, the Social
Democrats did not manage to add the fifth,
The Left-Greens had their two and The Lib-
eral Party and the Progressive Party had one
representative each.
With a working majority needing the
support of eight out of fifteen members of
City Council, and no party able to secure
a clean majority, the most likely candidate
to lead a coalition was The Independence
Party, which needed only the support of one
representative to secure the majority.
Early on Sunday morning, rumours were
f loating that the Independence Party and the
Liberal Party had started formal negotiations
to form a majority. This was confirmed later
in the day. At that time the Liberal’s repre-
sentative Magnússon said that he had spoken
to members of the other parties earlier that
day, but the Independence Party had shown
much interest in preliminary discussions, and
he considered that option to be more likely
to bear fruit than a coalition of four different
parties. Further discussions were planned on
Monday.
On Monday, news surfaced that all talks
between the two parties had been cancelled.
Apparently Independence Party leader Vil-
hjálmsson changed his mind and was now in
bed with the Progressive Party. The sudden
change of direction lead many to believe that
this had been planned all along and even
decided higher up in the chain of command,
in particular as a highly controversial law
proposal from the Progressive Party suddenly
found the support of the Independence Party
that same day, and seemed set for a fast track
through parliament.
The Independent – Progressive coali-
tion in parliament has made no secret of
their wishes to privatize the National Power
Company. In order to do that, they would
need to have the support of the Reykjavík
City Council, since the City owns 45% stakes
in the company. The newly formed coalition
in city politics sets the stage perfectly for the
privatization of the National Power Com-
pany, as all the other parties in city politics
have been opposed to this plan.
The new turn of events meant that Óla-
fur F. Magnússon of the Liberals suddenly
found himself on the outside looking in.
When I talked to Magnússon after the elec-
tions he said he had simply been duped.
“It was very unpleasant to experience this
from Vilhjálmsson. He contacted us early on
the Election Day, before the polls were even
closed. His representative approached me
with an offer for cooperation, and told me
that any disagreements over issues could be
worked out. They presented us with blue-
prints for a new design for the Reykjavík
Airport [the biggest dispute between the
parties] that would have allowed the airport
to remain where it is, and he insured me that
we could reach an agreement over this issue.
“We had planned a meeting on Mon-
day at 13:00. He never showed up for the
meeting, and called me at 14:00 and told me
that he was putting further talks off, since
he could not see us reach an agreement over
the location of the airport.” Magnússon
explained.
“It turned out it was all a ploy intended
to keep us out of any meaningful discussions
with the other parties, while the Inde-
pendence Party and the Progressive Party
worked out their differences,” Magnússson
said.
“I’ll have to admit that I was duped.
Maybe innocent doctors are not the right
people for politics,” he added. “But we are
still the winners of this election.”
“I am just waiting for them to call so we can begin
formal discussions,” Olafur F. Mangússon waiting for a
coalition in the city government that would never take
place.
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