Where is the New Constitution? An interview with activist Gunnhildur Fríða Hallgrímsdóttir
Translation: Nico Borbély with Julie Summers
Photo / Sædís Harpa Stefánsdóttir
There is a group that has been highly vocal about the constitution issue in Iceland since the summer. This group has its roots in the Constitution Society, led by Katrín Oddsdóttir. The constitution issue is a longstanding and deeply controversial one that can be traced back to the aftermath of the 2008 economic collapse.
Former Prime Minister Jóhanna Sígurðardóttir’s government submitted a proposal to review the current constitution with the input of the Icelandic public. A national meeting was held where approximately 1,000 people from all walks of life came together and laid the groundwork for the new constitution. A new constitutional assembly was elected, in which voters were meant to elect 25 representatives to the parliament out of around 500 candidates. A case about the implementation of the election was brought before the Supreme Court, among other things on the grounds that electoral confidentiality had not been properly guaranteed. The Supreme Court subsequently ruled that the election had been illegal. As a result, the assembly’s name was changed to the Constitutional Council, in which the same members were offered seats. The Council was tasked with working through the national assembly’s comments and concluded its work by submitting proposals for a new constitution to the speaker of the Althingi (the Icelandic parliament) in July 2011.
Majority wanted a new constitution
The Althingi held a referendum on the Constitutional Council’s proposals in 2012. This referendum raised questions as to whether individual provisions should be included in the constitution, such as provisions pertaining to the National Church of Iceland or the equal weight of votes throughout the country. The results of the referendum showed that about ⅔ of voters ruled that the proposals should be “the basis of a parliamentary bill for a new constitution.”
“The current constitution was not drafted by the people. Jón Sigurðsson himself was always talking about the need for a new constitution.”
In short, that’s the story of the constitution issue that ignited the hopes of the Icelandic public for a more democratic constitution. Voters opted for instance for provisions concerning national ownership of resources, wildlife conservation, and transparency. Despite the extensive work done a decade ago, there’s still no end in sight. This year, activists have joined forces and demanded answers from the government. “Where is the new constitution?” is stenciled all over the city’s sidewalks and shouted in the streets.
Gunnhildur Fríða Hallgrímsdóttir is one of these activists. She was meant to start her first year at Harvard University this fall, but due to the pandemic, she is currently studying at Flateyri Folk School. Gunnhildur says she has been heavily involved in the Fridays for Future climate strikes in Reykjavík, where she met Katrín Oddsdóttir, a lawyer and chair of the Constitution Society.
“I thought to myself that this just couldn’t be, that the government is ignoring the results of a democratic election. And if so, why isn’t everyone going crazy? It made no sense to me.” She educated herself further on the issue with the help of her parents and found a need for further discussion about it on social media. Gunnhildur works closely with lawyer Ósk Elfarsdóttir. “I started [talking about it] on TikTok and she started on Instagram; we’ve had a social media campaign dedicated to the issue running since the summer. This was actually a full-time job for us for a while. It was a lot of fun to make use of methods that maybe haven’t yet been tried in Iceland.” The discussion around the new constitution has attracted a great deal of attention, and Gunnhildur believes that she will reach younger target audiences more effectively through these mediums. “The younger generation needs to know about this, so we have to start Instagram and TikTok accounts. Much of our role in sharing information has been to read masters’ theses and share their contents on TikTok. In my opinion, that’s an art form.”
Photo / Owen Fiene
A constitution is a social contract
“Ósk has a master’s degree in law, of course,” says Gunnhildur. “But yes, some people have prejudices about young people voicing their opinions on certain issues, but these are the same people who said that artists shouldn’t voice their opinions about the new constitution.” She believes this is the wrong approach, as the constitution of any given state is a social contract that affects every inhabitant. “The constitution can be whatever we want it to be,” she says.
The Constitution Society was founded in 2011. So why is so much noise being made about the matter now? The answer may have something to do with the events leading up to the Society’s activities over the past several months. “There was never a certain point in time when it was okay to be formally outraged. The Althingi said they were going to address it, but they are only just now starting to present their own proposed changes to the constitution. We’ve seen those proposals, and they’re nothing like the Constitutional Council’s proposals.”
Two versions of the new constitution
This October, Prime Minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir announced that two provisions from the Constitution Society’s proposals should be considered by the Althingi. Gunnhildur states that this is not a logical development. “The Constitutional Council’s process is being painted as something that happened suddenly. In my opinion, the National Assembly and Constitutional Council represent the nation [and the will of the people] much better than the chairmen of the political parties.”
According to Gunnhildur, there are two versions of the new constitution; one of them being that of the Constitutional Council, the other a bill drafted by the Icelandic Pirate Party and the Social Democratic Party. The latter takes into account the reassessment of the Venice Commission, known officially as the European Commission for Democracy Through Law, and the legal committee of the Icelandic Bar Association. Gunnhildur explains that she personally follows the proposals of the Constitutional Council, as the Althingi should not be appropriating the role of the public as the creator of the new constitution. “The current constitution was not drafted by the people. Jón Sigurðsson himself was always talking about the need for a new constitution.”
The referendum can certainly be criticised to some extent. It was first and foremost an advisory process. Second, voter turnout in 2012 was just under 50%, though there are no provisions in Icelandic law regarding minimum turnout. Gunnhildur rightly points out that “all referendums other than the Icesave bill have been advisory in nature. Despite this, their outcomes have all been implemented, though their turnouts were even lower.” She mentions, for example, the referendum on prohibition in 1933, which saw a 45% voter turnout. “At that time, actions were taken, most reminiscent of the United States today, where MPs from the Independence Party urged their party members not to vote and filibustered the signing of the new constitution into law after a majority of voters had approved it in the election. Today they criticise the issue on account of low voter turnout, which was literally their fault for having encouraged their party members to abstain from voting.”
Despite this criticism, the fact of the matter remains that a majority of voters voted for the adoption of a new constitution. In its simplest form, the constitutional controversy is about respecting the results of the referendum held in 2012.