Reykjavík Grapevine - 23.05.2014, Blaðsíða 19

Why did you decide against running
for a second term?
Because the Best Party is a surprise
party. And surprise parties can only
go on for so long. You can’t stand up
in the middle of a party and yell: “sur-
prise!” That’s absurd. No one would be
surprised. The party is already in full
swing. Parties that just keep on going,
without any element of surprise, they’re
just normal parties. And the Best Party
was never meant to be a normal party.
Besides that, there is a certain flaw
to the Best Party, in that it isn’t a demo-
cratic party. It does not play by those
rules, and it’s important that it doesn’t.
If I were to run again that would have to
change. And then it wouldn’t be the Best
Party. And I’m not interested in that.
You’ve said the political system is in
need of a massive reformation—“a
full scale cultural revolution,” as you
called it when we interviewed you be-
fore the last election. Was the party’s
non-democratic nature an attempt
to circumvent that system, to instil
changes?
Exactly. You can think of the Best
Party as an intervention. An interven-
tion is temporary; the counsellor doesn’t
stay on the family’s couch while it is in
the recovery process.
Relative Satisfaction
At the time we first interviewed you,
for our 2010 election issue, no one re-
ally foresaw the Best Party achieving
the success that it did, that you would
wind up becoming mayor of Reykja-
vík. Except maybe you—while out-
lining your ideas and ambitions, you
also discussed whether you would
need to reconcile them with those
of your collaborators, to mediate
and compromise. In your last days,
it seems appropriate to ask: how did
that turn out? Have you had to com-
promise a lot?
I would say so. Compromise. Media-
tion. It’s been one big compromise, and
that isn’t so bad—in fact, it’s the core of
what democracy is supposed to be. Even
though when you sort of try to please
everyone a little, the outcome is often a
mish-mash that’s equally undesirable to
all. But anyway, I’ve had to mediate a lot,
and reconcile different parties.
You can take the whole NASA as
an example [NASA was a beloved lo-
cal concert venue that was controver-
sially shuttered to make way for a ho-
tel]. That’s a project that was ongoing
when we came into office—it had been
settled, the contracts had been signed,
the necessary permits given by our pre-
decessors. When we became aware of
the matter, it had already turned into
a big dispute, with different factions
up in arms. There were the ‘Friends
of NASA’ people. Then there were the
building’s owners and its neighbours.
And then there was Alþingi, which also
got involved. Not to mention all the laws
and regulations that we must abide by,
which played a large role.
I have always tried to settle such
disputes and resolve them in a manner
that is fairly satisfactory to everyone in-
volved. And we certainly attempted that
with the NASA affair. But then, satisfac-
tion is relative. People can always claim
they’re unsatisfied—and then some
might say that certain people will never
be entirely satisfied.
The NASA situation is a good exam-
ple of something we put a lot of work in
resolving. And there were other issues
that came up. People seemed to have
a lot of expectations when we came to
power. A lot of artists and, you know,
cultural people somehow thought that it
was finally their time to be shine and be
connected, that nepotism would finally
start working in their favour.
And then that didn’t happen?
No, that didn’t happen, which made
a lot of people really mad. But our goal
was always to put an end to nepotism in
city politics, because it has proven in-
credibly impractical and costly—it’s not
a healthy or natural state of affairs. So
yeah, I’ve compromised and mediated.
And I’m really fucking good at it.
What about your own beliefs and
expectations? Did you compromise
them? Did you ever have to stand for
something you didn’t believe in, to go
against your principles?
No, never. I have never done that. I
have never gone against my conscience
or acted contrary to my beliefs. I know
that in life, you sometimes have to swal-
low bitter pills, that’s just the way it is.
Regardless, I have never lied. I have not
been dishonest. Even when that was an
easy option. I have rather opted for hon-
esty, to admitting that I do not know the
answer to a question, rather than telling
a lie or diverting the conversation.
Being able to rely on Jóga [Jón’s wife,
Jóhanna Jóhannsdóttir] and her judge-
ment has helped a lot in this regard. She
is such a big and active part of every-
thing I do. She plays a much greater role
than people realize, because she’s not so
much in the front, she prefers to stay out
of the public eye.
But no, there’s nothing I regret or
would have done differently. I have done
everything right.
19The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 06 — 2014
What
Happened
Mayor Jón Gnarr
explains himself, a little
Words by Haukur S. Magnússon
Photos by Baldur Kristjáns
First, nobody thought comedian Jón Gnarr’s joke party would actually make it to the
ballot for the 2010 Reykjavík municipal elections. Then, nobody thought comedian Jón
Gnarr’s joke party would attract a significant number of voters. Then, nobody thought
comedian Jón Gnarr would step up to the role of mayor. Then, nobody thought May-
or Jón Gnarr would last a full term in office. Then, nobody thought Mayor Jón Gnarr
wouldn’t run for a second term.
Clearly, nobody has been wrong about a lot of things pertaining to comedian Mayor
Jón Gnarr. — We called him up to talk about it.