Reykjavík Grapevine - 21.05.2010, Blaðsíða 10

10
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 06 — 2010
Icelanders are heading into their second
elections since the economic collapse of Oc-
tober 2008. In April of last year, we had the
parliamentary elections where the left won
a resounding victory—since then we have
what is nominally the most left wing gov-
ernment in the history of the republic. But
then the government is in a way a victim of
circumstance: It is difficult to run generous
left wing welfare policies in a state that is
practically bankrupt. The government is thus
forced to follow a strict program dictated by
the International Monetary Fund, stipulat-
ing how it should cut down the huge budget
deficit and repay foreign debt.
So in the course of a year, the present gov-
ernment has become almost as unpopular
as the former right/centre government that
presided over the economic collapse, which
was ousted after the so-called Pots and Pans
Revolution of January 2009. The general feel-
ing in the country is that politics are useless,
political parties are corrupt and politicians
mendacious and irrelevant.
Reykjavík as crown jewel
Politics are not helped by the fact that the
political parties—save for the socialist Left
Greens—had a very cosy relationship with
the financiers who bankrupted the coun-
try. Politicians acted as cheerleaders for the
banksters, who repaid them with donations
into party coffers and money gifts to indi-
vidual politicians, parliamentarians and
members of the Reykjavík city council. There
are demands for several politicians to resign
because of this, but so far they have resisted.
Thus, Icelanders’ disgust with traditional
politics keeps on growing.
The municipal elections on May 30th
arouse no passion in the population. The
elections are held all around the country,
in townships large and small, but the great-
est prize is Reykjavík. Reykjavík was always
the jewel in the crown of the Independence
Party, which has dominated Icelandic politics
since the 1920s.
For decades the party reigned supreme in
Reykjavík with a clear majority in every elec-
tion. The leaders of the party were brought
up in Reykjavík politics; they almost invari-
ably were mayors of Reykjavík before they
went on to become party leaders and prime
ministers. This was, for example, the story of
Davíð Oddsson, the strong man of Icelandic
politics for the last three decades. He gradu-
ated from the law faculty of the University of
Iceland, was mayor of Reykjavík, party leader,
PM and, lastly, head of the Central Bank of
Iceland—a position which has strangely
been used to reward politicians on their way
to retirement.
And this was exactly the path of Geir
Hallgrímsson, a leader of the Independence
Party, a generation older than Davíð Odds-
son. He ended up in the luxury of the Central
Bank, a black modern building towering over
central Reykjavík and a rest home for politi-
cal veterans. But then Geir never had to deal
with an economic collapse, so his compe-
tence was not really tested.
Losing Reykjavík
For the Independence Party, Reykjavík was
also the lynchpin of a system of patronage
where people got jobs, housing, permits, and
different rewards based on where they stood
in politics. If you wanted to enjoy the benefits
of life in Reykjavík you had better support the
Independence Party—and so it was for a long
time.
This started changing in 1994 when the
left wing parties in Reykjavík managed to
mount a challenge to the Independence Par-
ty in the guise of Ingibjörg Sólrún Gísladót-
tir, a tough feminist, then a member of the
so called Women's List. At that time a person
of extraordinary self confidence, she seemed
the first politician to be unfazed by the power
and the traditions of the Independence Party
which up to that point had been a source of
inferiority complexes on the left wing.
Under Ingibjörg Sólrún the left managed
to hold on to Reykjavík for three consecutive
elections. This was not excessively due to the
success of their policies, for the demograph-
ics have also changed. Many conservative
voters have moved to outlying towns such as
Garðabær and Seltjarnarnes where popula-
tion is more uniformly affluent and where
the Independence Party can rely on a sound
majority every time there is a vote.
So in Reykjavík the Independence Party
can no more count on winning a clear ma-
jority—those days have passed. After the
last elections, after some very complicated
manoeuvring, the party managed to form a
city government with the quite marginal Pro-
gressive Party. The present mayor, Hanna
Birna Kristjánsdóttir, has done quite well;
she has a decisive personality, manages to
distance herself from unpopular decisions,
and is mostly free from the scandals that
have shaken the nation. No wonder she is be-
ing named as a future leader of the party, and
in due time, Prime Minister.
But at the same time her party is deeply
unpopular. It is blamed for the corruption,
recklessness, deception and lack of regula-
tion, which led to the collapse of the economy.
Party leader, Bjarni Benediktsson, has ex-
tremely low approval ratings. He is perceived
as having been too close to the financiers
who plundered the country. The party’s VP,
Þorgerður Katrín Gunnarsdóttir, was re-
cently forced to resign because of huge loans
her husband, a former handball star, received
when he was an employee of the Kaupthing
bank.
Every-party hurts
The situation is not much better in the other
parties. The social democrats, now leaders of
the government, were also in government at
the time of the collapse. The aforementioned
Ingibjörg Sólrún Gísladóttir was then Minis-
ter for Foreign Affairs and party leader. Since
she was forced to leave politics her successor
and present PM Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir has
seen her approval ratings plummet—she is
now mostly linked to enforcing unpopular
IMF policies and a deeply unpopular applica-
tion to join the European Union. She is not
referred to as Holy Jóhanna anymore.
Even the Left Greens, who had no part
in the collapse of the economy, are suffering.
The party is divided between loyalists who
support party leader and finance minister
Steingrímur J. Sigfússon and his pragmatist,
pro-IMF policies, and a more militant, anti-
globalist, anti-EU faction, led by Ögmundur
Jónasson, who was Minister of Health for a
short while until he decided to leave the gov-
ernment. The party, which looked so cohe-
sive in its long years of opposition, is now in
total disarray.
Comedy with a spark of danger
In Iceland, Reykjavík elections have always
been a big deal, a test of strength between left
and right. But now the situation is different.
People generally dislike the political parties;
in a way they seem pitiful. The parties have
looked very cowed during the election cam-
paign; they are handing out their balloons,
flowers and hot dogs, but the general feeling
is that they feel ashamed of themselves. It has
been very difficult to get the party faithful to
volunteer for election work. Within the par-
ties there is great resentment against politi-
cians who took money from the financiers
and who are still clinging on to their seats.
This might be a great atmosphere for
populists and demagogues, but surpris-
ingly their kind has not really showed up on
the political scene, not yet anyway. Instead
Reykjavík now has a party led by Jón Gnarr,
Iceland's most popular comedian. The party
calls itself Besti flokkurinn, “The Best Par-
ty”.
Jón Gnarr is a phenomenon in Iceland,
a man who speaks volumes. He has created
television shows, movies, radio programs,
penned books and articles—always with
a spark of danger in it, Jón Gnarr's jokes
often seem to be on the verge of madness.
Not everybody finds him funny, but he has
a strong cult following. As a person he gives
the feeling of being rather obsessive; this lat-
est venture of his has been described as being
Kaufmanesque—in the vein of legendary US
comedian Andy Kaufman.
The best party?
The Best Party is formed around Jón Gnarr.
Most of the other members could be catego-
rized as artistic types, belonging to a crowd
you could find hanging around in Reykja-
vík’s more fashionable bars and cafés. Many
of them have links to Icelandic pop star
Björk. Number two on the list, Einar Örn
Benediktsson, used to be a member of the
Sugarcubes.
The Best Party has no real policies to
speak of. They want to put a polar bear in the
Reykjavík ‘domestic animal’ Zoo. They de-
mand that Alþingi becomes free of drugs be-
fore 2020. They want to do all kinds of things
"for idiots." The parody is basically that the
other parties are so boring that you can’t vote
for them.
At the time of writing, polls indicate they
might get up to 36 percent of the vote. That
would give them six members on the Reyk-
javík council. This represents a total collapse
for the old parties. They do not know how to
react. Do you answer a joke like this without
becoming ridiculous yourself? Or is this a
joke: what will Jón Gnarr and his friends re-
ally do if they get elected?
Well, they will have to attend a lot of meet-
ings. The inner council meets once a week,
the larger council meets every two weeks.
There are a lot of committees dealing with
all aspects of Reykjavík life. There is an un-
wieldy bureaucratic system for a city this size.
There is practically no money to speak of;
basically all the parties agree that the school
system and welfare programs have to be pro-
tected as tax revenues go down. There is little
room left to do funny or nice things. So after
the election it is possible that Jón Gnarr's joke
might turn out to be a bit long-winded.
Egill Helgason is a man of many talents, in case you were wondering. Besides
running a political talk show on Icelandic State TV, he a also runs a literary
programme there. And he blogs a lot for web-site Eyjan.is. Kudos to you, Egill.
FJÖREGG
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EGILL HELGASON
JULIA STAPLES
Analysis | Egill Helgason, Political and Social Commentator
Terrified Politicians
“Money can’t buy me love.” John
Lennon/Paul McCartney.
I can understand a father
working two jobs to support his family, a
mother sacrificing her time to ensure that
her children don’t starve. But once you’re
assured a basic subsidence (adequate food,
shelter, and clothing), how much of your
time can you sacrifice to your job before the
impact on your family’s well-being becomes
negative? Where is the point of diminishing
returns?
Apparently, we answered this question
in the wild times leading up to the kreppa.
According to a recent study (www.
rannsoknir.is/rg/english), Icelandic children
and teenagers are happier now than they
were when we were the richest country
on Earth. Although the researchers aren’t
entirely sure why this would be, they
theorise that parents are able to spend
more time with them, and less time working,
shopping, travelling, schmoozing, and trying
to impress one another.
“Economic prosperity may come and
go; that's just how it is,” Warren Buffett’s
son Peter writes in his new book Life is
What You Make it: Finding Your Own Path
to Fulfillment. “But values are the steady
currency that earn us the all-important
rewards.”
And what were the values we were
teaching them? That the ridiculously
expensive clothes we bought for them could
make up for the times we couldn’t spend
with them? That the evenings on the town
with our co-workers were more important
than quiet evenings together? That money
is the measure of all things?
Fortunately, our children seem to be
wiser than we are. To be sure, some learned
their lessons well, and will have one helluva
time establishing some sense of balance
and self-worth now that the money is gone.
“Entitlement is the worst thing ever, and I
see entitlement coming in many guises,”
Peter Buffett writes. “Anybody who acts like
they deserve something ‘just because’ is a
disaster.”
But our kids understand that, although
the world may be a hostile place, they’ll
always be alright as long as they have their
family and friends. For most of our country’s
existence, we were alone in the world, for all
intents and purposes. All we had was one
another. Nearly all of us have been raised
in a very egalitarian manner—we went
to the same schools, ate the same foods,
watched the same shows, listened to the
same music, and lived the same lives. We
all cheered the Icelandic handball team in
the 2008 Olympics. We are all glued to the
screen every year when the Icelandic entry
in Eurovision performs. We all feel a rush of
pride every time an Icelandic singer, actor,
or writer makes the big time.
I suppose, too, that this is why the Black
Report hurts so bad. It shows the dark side
in each of us; it makes us ask, “What if I
had the opportunity? Would I have acted
differently?”
Our nation is healing, children first. Now
that our demons are out in the open, we can
fight them together. Like our children are
teaching us, we re-establish our internal
compasses and recalibrate our society’s
true worth. We didn’t really need all that
money, but—more than ever—we really need
The Limits Of Money
Opinion | Íris Erlingsdóttir