Reykjavík Grapevine - 06.12.2019, Side 6

Andrés Ingi Jónsson, a member of
Parliament who was elected as a Left-
Green Party MP in 2017, announced on
November 27th that he would be leav-
ing the party. The news should come
as a surprise to precisely no one—both
he and another Left-Green MP, Rósa
Björk Brynjólfsdóttir, have been criti-
cal of the party leadership ever since
the Left-Greens agreed to enter into a
coalition with the Independence Party,
something many prominent Left-
Greens promised would never happen
in the run-up to the elections.
Falling short
In an announcement about his depar-
ture that he posted on Facebook,
Andrés expressed frustration with how
the party has compromised much of
what it ostensibly stands for.
“Admittedly, we have had some
achievements, but often compro-
mises have fallen far short of our
ideals, as shown in a government bill
on foreigners last spring,” he wrote in
part. “Urgent action to combat disas-
ter relief has not gone as far as I think
necessary and self-evident in a govern-
ment led by a green movement.”
The majority
shrinks
As in many countries with a parlia-
mentary representative democracy,
Iceland’s government is comprised of
a majority coalition—in this case, the
Left-Greens, the Independence Party
and the Progressive Party. Such coali-
tions usually (but not always) depend
on holding a majority of seats to main-
tain the confidence of parliament.
Iceland’s Parliament has 63 seats,
and the current ruling coalition held 35
of them. With Andrés’ departure, that
majority is now at 34, which still gives
the coalition government a comfort-
able five-seat hold on the government,
but nonetheless reflects poorly on the
coalition’s ability to show a united front.
So what's next?
It bears mentioning that there is a
difference between leaving the parlia-
mentary party and leaving the party
altogether. Andrés has expressed no
intent of no longer being a Left-Green
politician; he simply will not be a part
of the party’s seats in Parliament.
For now, he will simply be an inde-
pendent MP—effectively a member
of the opposition, but free to vote his
conscience on bills and proposals from
any party, as should be expected of any
politician of good faith.
Christmas lights and traditions bring
much-needed warmth to the cold
Icelandic winters. But before Christi-
anity arrived in the country, Iceland-
ers were pagan. We asked Hilmar
Örn Hilmarsson, the head chieftain
of the Ásatrú Society—a pagan re-
ligious group that honours the Old
Norse pantheon—how the pagans
celebrated the holidays.
“Do you celebrate Yule?”
is a question
I have been
asked many
t i m e s . T h e
implication is
of course: do
you celebrate
Christmas? But
I have usually
risen to the oc-
casion by o#ering the hapless indi-
viduals who ask this an unwanted
history lesson.
would usually reel o# the various
winter solstice celebrations in the
pagan world starting with the Roman
Saturnalia, then the celebrations of
Sol Invictus and Mithras, a Persian
deity popular among Roman soldiers
whose birthday was celebrated on
the December 25th. I would then
move towards the north.
Jól was an important event, which
we can glean from other sources:
Houses had to be well-stocked with
food and drink for the occasion and
this was an important transition from
one solar cycle to the next.
I feel Jól/Yule is a feast that re-
verberates with all traditions and is
about sharing, communion, and cel-
ebrating birth and rebirth. As a liminal
event, it is a good time to take stock
of your life and make realistic oaths
and promises about the future.
ASK A
Pagan
Chieftain
Q: How Was Winter
Celebrated Before
Christian Traditions?

“Carb
Season”—
or Christmas, or the
winter holidays, or whatever
you’d like to call it— is fast
approaching. It’s time for
laufabrau$, or
Icelandic “leaf
bread,” to do a
Jesus-esque
comeback
and remind
Icelandic
homes that
it is once
again time
for frantic
consumerism
and way too
much family time.
Much tradition
surrounds the making of
these deep-fried bread disks.
In December, families all
around Iceland get together
to make the thin cakes that
are then sliced and carved
with sometimes intricate
patterns—think paper
snowflakes—and deep-fried
in sunflower oil or, more
traditionally, lamb fat.
Though the patterns deco-
rating the seasonal delicacy
can resemble tree leaves,
that is not the source of the
bread’s name. The leaf bread
is actually named a&er its
thickness, or more appropri-
ately, its thinness.
The first references to
laufabrau$ are from the 18th
century, a time when the
average Icelandic household
had very little access to flour,
salt, or sugar, especially dur-
ing the winter. Therefore, in
order to stretch what they
had the furthest they could—
literally and figuratively—the
Icelanders made the bread
very thin so that they could
cook as much leaf bread as
possible. Truly, an incredible
miracle of multiplication.
So if you’re in Iceland for
the holidays and a foreigner,
like me, make sure to drop
in on your closest Icelandic
family for a cooking session.
From my research, I’ve found
that the most important in-
gredient in laufabrau$ is love
and care.
Or just buy it at your local
bakery. IP La
uf
a-
br
au
#
Rulin! Coalition
Decreases By One
Left-Green MP announces departure from
parliamentary party
Words:
Andie Fontaine

Photo:
Timothée
Lambrecq
First 6 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 21— 2019
FOOD OF ICELAND
NEWS
Andrés Ingi, Lonesome cowboy.
More info and tickets
lavacentre.is
Open every day
9:00 - 19:00
Volcano &
Earthquake
Exhibition
LAVA Centre is an awarded, interactive exhibition
on Icelandic volcanoes and earthquakes. Learn
about the most active Icelandic volcanoes and
see all the latest eruptions in 4K. Lava Centre is
a mandatory stop on your Golden Circle or South
Coast adventure.
Located in Hvolsvöllur
80 min drive from Reykjavík
Photo: Eyjafjallajökull Eruption 2010