Reykjavík Grapevine - 30.06.2017, Blaðsíða 24

In March, an overzealous gun owner
shot a few rounds into the air in Kópa-
vogur, a suburb of Reykjavík. He’d just
had the gun serviced and was eager
to make sure it was in good working
order. Pop! Pop! Pop!
Police were called to the scene, the
news media rolled up, people specu-
lated that someone might have been
hurt. No one knew what was going on,
no one could find any injured party, but
neighbours swore they’d heard gun-
shots coming from somewhere nearby.
This was a big deal. National news cov-
erage big.
The gun owner came forward the
next day and apologised. Police sub-
sequently seized the gun in question,
alongside all other weapons in his col-
lection, then revoked his gun licence.
You might think that this shook the
nation because gun ownership is rare,
but you’d be wrong.
According to the research organi-
sation Gun Policy, the estimated total
of civilian-owned guns in Iceland is
about 90,000.
That’s 90,000 guns for 330,000 peo-
ple. Roughly a third, so chances are
if you are in a room with ten Iceland-
ers, about two or three of them are
gun owners. In the United States, by
contrast, there are far more guns per
household but the rate of gun owner-
ship is just a little above one third, so
similar to Iceland.
In spite of this high rate of civilian
gun ownership, Iceland still has one of
the lowest crime rates in the world.
The UN’s Global Study on Homicide
from 2013 cites that between 2005 and
2012, zero percent of violent deaths in
Iceland were caused by a firearm. In
the United States in the same time pe-
riod, the rate of violent deaths caused
by firearms was between 58-61%.
But why? How is it possible for gun
ownership in Iceland to be on par with
countries plagued by gun violence,
without any actual gun crime?
It’s a real schlep
to get a gun
“We do not know exactly why gun
crime is so low,” said Jónas Hafsteins-
son, who works in the Icelandic Police’s
gun licensing department. “Maybe be-
cause it is hard to get a licence?”
In order to get a gun and a hunt-
ing license, Icelanders have to do pa-
perwork for the police, the magistrate,
and even the Environment Agency of
Iceland.
Prospective gun owners need to
prove they have no criminal record.
They need to be evaluated by a doctor
to prove they are of sound mind and
have good enough eye-
sight. They have to buy
and read two books, at-
tend a three-day course
and score at least 75%
on exams regarding gun
safet y, management,
what animals are al-
lowed to be hunted and
when, and so on. Then
there’s a practical exam
to prove they know how
to handle a gun safely.
Once Icelanders final-
ly have their license, they need to prove
they have a gun safe to lock the weapons
in, plus a separate place away from the
gun safe to lock the ammunition.
Basically, it’s a real schlep for a ci-
vilian to get a gun and there are a lot
of legal checkpoints to ensure public
safety.
A question of
practicality
“My dad had guns and hunted. So guns
were always around when I was a boy,”
says gun owner and hunting enthu-
siast Árni Leósson. “When I got older
I got really into fly-fishing and from
there I got interested in hunting but
to do that I had to get my own guns. It
was just pragmatism and I think the
reason gun crime is so alien in Iceland
is the ‘gun culture.’ In Iceland guns are
for practical things like hunting and
not for protection. We have the police
for that.”
Indeed, even the regular police do
not use guns; only special forces carry
firearms. Up until earlier this month
—when special forces turned up armed
to the annual Color Run—Icelandic ci-
vilians had never had to contend with
seeing guns in public. This act by the
police was so unusual and made people
so uncomfortable that there has been
a series of public complaints about the
police bringing guns to a family event,
especially given that studies show that
the presence of armed police escalates
tension.
The meaning of guns
“In places like the US a firearm is be-
lieved to be important for self-defence
and to deter crime but this idea is for-
eign here,” says Helgi Gunnlaugsson,
a professor of sociology at the Uni-
versity of Iceland. “Here we look at a
gun, or a pistol, as an object for mostly
sports and hunting animals. Very few
Icelanders believe guns are important
to defend yourself or your family. So
even if you own a gun, and quite a few
do, the gun is not to be aimed at other
persons. It actually never really crosses
our mind to do that.”
“This cultural meaning and differ-
ence is not something you can change
overnight with a stricter or more leni-
ent gun control legislation—this dif-
ference runs much deeper
than that,” argues Helgi,
adding that when peo-
ple view guns as a tool
of self-defence, they are
more likely to keep guns
more readily accessible in
the household, in order to
grab it in case of an emer-
gency—which leads to
greater rates of acciden-
tal shootings or murders
while people are intoxi-
cated.
Additional and more general fac-
tors also contribute to Iceland’s low
gun crime rate. Historically, in order
to make it through the long winters,
everyone needed to pitch in to simply
survive, meaning there is a short social
distance between Icelanders.
People with power are not impos-
sible to reach, it is not impossible to be
heard. Add to that a more equal society
with low rates of extreme wealth and
extreme poverty and you neuter a lot
of aggression and fear.
And that’s the real danger, let’s not
forget. Fear.
24 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 11 — 2017
Lækjargata 8, tel: 5460006
Chances are
if you are in a
room with ten
Icelanders,
about two
or three of
them are gun
owners.
ANALYSIS
Words:
Nanna Árnadóttir
Photo:
Art Bicnick
90,000 Guns
But No Gun-
Related
Crimes
We like our guns, but not shooting people
If you mess with Alice, prepare to get got