Reykjavík Grapevine - ágú. 2022, Blaðsíða 9

9The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 08— 2022
on how the general public perceives
and responds to trans people, it’s the
media.
The role of the media
As mentioned earlier, a lot of the trans-
phobic voices in Iceland are finding a
platform in its national media outlets,
more often than not under the guise
of “opinion” pieces rather than news
stories. As with media outlets in many
other countries, what constitutes an
“opinion” follows a very broad defini-
tion. Rather than being solely a matter
of subjective taste or personal specu-
lation where evidence is lacking, an
opinion piece in the Icelandic media
can also include expressing beliefs
based on misinformation or even false-
hoods. This is especially the case when
it comes to the subject of trans people,
for example by contending—despite
scientific evidence to the contrary—
that it is impossible to change one’s
gender, and that only two exist.
“I think they have a really large
impact, like on this kind of negative
turn towards trans people in the last
maybe one or two years,” Íris says of
Icelandic media outlets. “The way it has
become a venue for us to find negative
voices. I think that matters a lot. That
is something you see happening with
various groups: that people are being
used, kind of as a way to get attention
and get clicks, to get more money from
advertisers.”
At the same time, Elí says that indi-
vidual reporters have gotten better in
terms of how they cover trans people.
“I feel like they always check what
name to use in articles, what pronouns
to use, and they use mostly the correct
and respectable terminology around
trans people issues—in my experi-
ence, after a lot of work on behalf of
trans activists,” they say. “I feel like it's
a pretty recent development.”
At the same time, Elí also points
out a lack of diverse representation,
saying, “I don't feel like there's a lot of
representation of trans people in the
media doing something other than
being trans. “If they even get space in
the media at all.”
For their part, Viima believes that
the small size and density of Icelandic
society means that any topic reported
on by the media will spread to many
people quickly.
“There's not a day that goes by
where trans topics are not discussed,
on the radio, in the newspapers, in
magazines,” they say. “The thirst for
people to know more, and to read about
us seems to be unquenchable. Which
is, in a way, amazing, but at the same
time, it is a little bit, I would say, even
unhealthy. A bit voyeurististic. It makes
me uncomfortable sometimes. But yes,
it has had an enormous positive effect,
just making ourselves visible. That we
are listened to sometimes now. Not all
of the time. But a lot of time.”
Just as there is a double-edged
sword to visibility, though, there is also
another side to the Icelandic media’s
reach.
“We're also served on a silver plat-
ter,” Viima says. “Hate speech is
not just hate speech; it is a form of
violence. I am sometimes concerned
for those individuals who take part,
who decide to share something of their
own experiences or who speak out
publicly. Trans people and nonbinary
people are still marginalised groups in
society and in danger of hate crimes.”
What about the law?
On the subject of hate speech, Iceland
does have a law forbidding it, although
it is seldom enforced. While the law
cannot protect marginalised people
completely, it can go a long way towards
doing so, and Pirate Party MP Andrés
Ingi Jónsson believes the government
should be doing more.
“We're seeing pushback surface,”
Andrés says. “And it's a bit frightening
when it comes to the open hostilities
people are facing in the streets. The
things we're seeing in the news these
days—it's a bit worrying that it seems
that the authorities haven't taken any
proactive steps to make sure these
things wouldn't happen. Rather, we've
been waiting for individuals to be in
actual danger before reacting in a situ-
ation I think we shouldn't have had to
find ourselves in.”
Andrés was instrumental in the
elimination of the so-called “trans
tax”, the 9,000 ISK fee that used to be
charged if someone wanted to change
their name or gender marker at the
National Registry. Within six months
of calling for the fee to be dropped, it
was officially stricken. Did he get much
pushback from his colleagues or from
the public?
“Extremely little,” he says. “For my
colleagues, I think they were mainly
annoyed because this seemed like a
technical thing. And those that needed
persuasion, they just didn't realise that
this actually was an issue. But there
were no actual negative feelings within
Parliament. Very little from outside
Parliament.”
While Andrés believes there is more
legal work that Parliament could be
doing to protect trans people, he sees
the passage of this bill as a part of his
role as an ally to marginalised people,
saying, “I'm a white, male, cisgen-
der individual in a position of power.
So basically, I'm everything that's
not discriminated against. When I
look over the shoulders of my female
colleagues or people in different posi-
tions, the reactions they are getting
both openly and privately, I usually see
things that are so far from anything I
would ever experience.”
What can an ally do?
When it comes to being an ally to
trans people—to push back against
the rise of anti-trans hate in public
discourse—our interviewees had some
helpful pieces of advice.
Paramount in that advice was to
not accept that bigotry against trans
people is merely a “debate” or “a matter
of opinion”.

A Timeline Of Queer
Rights In Iceland
Words: Andie Sophia Fontaine
Iceland is often cited as an example of a nation that has
embraced various queer rights, sometimes well ahead of
countries many times its size. This history of queer acceptance
is the backdrop to the growing anti-trans rhetoric in Iceland
and may make the increased vocal intolerance towards trans
and other LGBTQIA people seem perplexing. However, as
our feature shows, legally encoded rights for marginalised
people do not necessarily lead to automatic acceptance. That
said, this history can also provide hope: Iceland is a country
with tolerance as a core value, and that is a powerful tool for
fighting hate.
1940: Iceland repeals a law that outlawed homosexual activity.
Nonetheless, being openly gay was still very taboo, with public
figures such as musician Hörður Torfason attesting to being
subject to homophobic abuse well into the 1980s.
1978: The creation of the National Queer Organsation, Samtökin
‘78.
1982: Samtökin ‘78 begins organising first protests for queer
rights in Iceland.
1992: Age of consent equalised for everyone, regardless of
gender or sexual orientation.
1996: Laws prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sexual
orientation passed, making it illegal to deny goods and
services on this basis. Iceland’s hate speech laws are amended
to include sexual orientation. Sam-sex unions are recognised.
1999: Iceland holds its first official Pride march, attended by
1,500 people.
2000: Same-sex couples are allowed to adopt stepchildren.
2006: Same-sex couples allowed joint adoption, and have equal
access to IVF.
2010: Same-sex marriage is legalised.
2012: Iceland relaxes its laws regarding gender identity.
The National University Hospital of Iceland begins to create
health services for transgender people, including an 18-month
evaluation process, hormone replacement therapy, and gender
affirming surgery.
2015: The National Church of Iceland allows same-sex couples
to marry within its churches.
2016: The town of Hafnarfjörður creates an education
programme regarding same-sex relationships, taught to those
starting in eighth grade (about 14 or 15 years old).
2018: Anti-discrimination law on the basis of employment
includes sexual orientation and gender identity.
2020: Parliament passes comprehensive gender determination
act, allowing trans people to change gender marker without
surgery, allowing minors to do the same with parental consent,
and allowing for a third “X” gender marker for nonbinary
people.
2022: Men who have sexual relationships with men (i.e., gay,
bisexual and pansexual men) may donate blood after a 4-month
deferral period.