Reykjavík Grapevine - feb. 2022, Blaðsíða 9
Long-time readers of the Grapevine
may have noticed a series of stories
over the past few years on prominent,
often powerful, Icelandic men being
revealed to have crossed boundaries
of consent with women, in particular,
women who are younger and often of
foreign origin. Each time this happens,
the stories grab headlines for some
days or weeks, sometimes prompt-
ing other survivors to come forward,
either about the men in question or
about other men and their transgres-
sions.
Each time this happens, numer-
ous media outlets, (and the Grape-
vine is, admittedly, not an exception
here), frame this as “another” wave of
the #MeToo movement. The problem
with this is it treats a systemic, ongo-
ing problem of sexual violence–more
often than not perpetrated by power-
ful men against younger, marginalised
women–as an anomaly. The sad truth
is, these events are not the exception;
they are the norm.
One person who knows this all too
well is Edda Falak, an Icelandic woman
who has found herself at the forefront
of what is a continuous movement of
marginalised people pushing back
against patriarchal violence. She is the
host of a popular podcast called Eigin
Konur (a play on the Icelandic word for
“wives”, i.e. “eiginkonur”, which liter-
ally means “owned women”), and the
interviews she has conducted have
broken news, brought down CEOs,
and sparked a long-overdue discus-
sion of why sexual violence persists in
the “feminist paradise” of Iceland, and
what can be done to change it.
Making use
of a platform
“Before I started the podcast, I had
newly finished coursework in Finance
and Strategic Management in Copen-
hagen, and was competing in crossfit
at this time,” Edda recalls. “At the same
time, I was very active on social media
on specific matters where I was talking
about things, usually about how women
and female bodies are hypersexualised,
how violence is connected to that. I
was sharing photos and comments
on my Instagram story showing how
men usually talk to me, and how it is
to be a woman in masculine worlds like
finance and sports, talking about these
things on social media. That ended up
transforming into the podcast.”
Rather than centering her own
opinions, from the very beginning
Edda sought to pass the mic to those
whose voices often go unheard.
“I had built up a good group of
followers and a platform, and a lot of
people had opinions on these matters
and how they were covered, so I just
decided that instead of all this revolv-
ing around me all the time, to hear
from others,” she says. "[Eigin Konur]
started in connection with people
who were working in production, and
wanted to do this properly. I wanted
to have a real influence in exacting
change. Today, there's an advertising
office helping me with all the graphics,
video and sound and such.”
The back-
lash, fol$owed
by listening
The beginnings of Eigin Konur were
marked by a storm of responses–many
of them positive, some of them nega-
tive, but all of them engaging with the
content.
“I sort of jumped into the deep end
talking about things that were causing
a real buzz in society, like porn, Only-
Fans, fatphobia and other things that
people had strong opinions about and
found uncomfortable to listen to,” Edda
says. “So the first responses were very
negative, but everyone was listening,
everyone was watching, and everyone
had an opinion. I worked on the things
that I wanted to; I don't want to put
forward a one-sided opinion. I want to
bring certain subjects to the surface,
for society to talk about. So while the
response was at first negative, that
changed rather quickly.”
Edda makes no claims to being an
objective reporter on the subjects she
covers, but at the same time, hearing
from many different sides of an issue
is deeply important to her.
“I definitely don't want to put
forward a one-sided opinion, and
be telling people what is 'right' and
'wrong',” she emphasises. “It's built
on the idea to discuss these subjects
from the point of view of many differ-
ent sides. That's the way it should
be. That said, with every subject that
I'm reporting on, I am obviously not
neutral, rather I think these are things
that matter to society. I also feel there
is a social responsibility to listen to
people who are speaking from their
lived experience. That's what I think
matters.”
“Another
revolution”
Edda has observed with some frustra-
tion how each revealed instance of
powerful men abusing their positions
is framed as a new wave in what she
sees as a continuous, ongoing move-
ment. This movement, she says, has
material goals in mind.
“We're always talking about a new
'revolution' [in the #MeToo move-
ment], that now there's 'another revo-
lution', but what I'm trying to point
out is that this is a continuous move-
ment, going on week after week, all
year long,” she says. “This is a prob-
lem. It shouldn't have to be some kind
of revolution. There are some people
saying 'this isn't political' but it most
certainly is political. Because we need
social changes to go into effect more
than the discussions about the need
for these changes. That's something
else I'm trying to draw attention to.”
Fighting back, for her, must involve
numerous sectors of society, from the
private to the public.
“We need to see changes such as
large companies taking a public stance,
such as what happened with Ísey,” she
says, referring to how shortly after an
interview she did with Vítalía Laza-
reva, who recounted harrowing details
of being sexually abused by a group of
men, Ísey’s CEO, Ari Edwald, was fired
swfitly. “Ari was fired in the wake of the
interview. It's also a social change for
these companies to publicly condemn
violence, but at the same time, we do
need political changes.
“We really need to improve how
sexual assault cases are handled. We
know it's illegal to sexually assault
someone, but there will always be
people who do it anyway. Education
needs to be prioritised—education in
schools. The courts system isn't good
enough, and we don't have recourse
for survivors. The government isn't
subsidising psychiatric services for
survivors. We're lacking funding in
recourse, both regarding perpetrators
and survivors.”
Trans women
and foreign
women
Edda is also, thankfully, very much
aware of how some women—namely
trans women, foreign women, and
young women—are particularly
vulnerable, experiencing intersections
of oppression that also make coming
forward and recounting being abused
all the more daunting.
“Out of prejudice against trans
people, there's this pervasive attitude
that trans people subjected to sexual
violence deserve it somehow,” she says.
“You see this kind of shame associated
with being with a trans person, which
can lead to this violence. And trans
people are often scared to seek justice
in the wake of it. It's not talked about
very much here, but you see it abroad
that the numbers are remarkably high,
and while those numbers might not be
officially as high in Iceland, they are;
it's just kept quiet. There is clearly not
enough education going on in grade
school. This is a specific prejudice
against trans people.”
She adds: “When it comes to women
of foreign origin, Icelandic men see
themselves as above these women. Prej-
udice against women of foreign origin
is based on them not being Icelandic;
they don't have as much respect for
those women. These are women who
don't have as many connections in
Icelandic society, don't know as many
people, that no one will believe them
because they're not Icelandic. All this.
Add to this being young. There's this
outlook among young women that no
one will believe you, you won't dare to
talk about what happened to you, and if
you do, no one will believe you. It's as if
you don't matter as much.”
The courts
and the cops
Edda is encouraged to see the grass-
roots organising, making their voices
heard and having an impact on private
companies.
“We're seeing more and more that
women are standing together,” she
says. “If there's a group of people
standing together, it's a lot more diffi-
cult to oppose them. You're seeing the
younger generation isn’t letting the
older generation get away with their
shit. People aren't as afraid. If someone
says you're lying, you know there will
be people who stand with you, which
matters a lot. There are people encour-
aging others not to do business with a
particular company or other because
they're not taking a stand, which exerts
financial pressure on these compa-
nies.”
At the same time, she also believes
that there needs to be fundamental,
sweeping changes made to Iceland’s
courts and police.
“The problems with the court system
are all built on top of this prejudice
which exists within the system,” she
says. “It's often as if the court system
is primarily dominated by white men
who have maybe already made up their
minds, and have already decided not to
believe survivors. You can have a case
that has texts, screenshots, witnesses,
all that, but the case is still dropped.
We're talking about powerful people
making decisions based on their own
prejudices.”
Much the same issue is present
in the police, she says. “When one is
questioned, the questions that are
being asked; we need to examine that.
What is being asked? Why aren't they
following up on these cases? What's in
the interests of the police that prompts
them to not examine this case, or that
case? There's corruption and prejudice
within the system, and we need to kick
these people out.”
The state
bears respon-
sibility
Particularly frustrating to Edda is to
see members of Parliament and Reyk-
javík City Council—the very people
with the power to make the necessary
changes—not back up their rhetoric
or the campaign promises with real
action.
“It is incredibly frustrating to see all
these members of Parliament on social
media saying 'we support survivors, go
you',” she says. “But it isn't our prob-
lem; it's their problem. So we clearly
need to put the pressure on. It shows
“I don't want to put forward a
one-sided opinion. I want to bring
certain subjects to the surface,
for society to talk about.”
“It's often as if the court system is primarily
dominated by white men who have maybe
already made up their minds, and have already
decided not to believe survivors”
9 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 12— 2021