The A-Z of Iceland: Parliament

In the last installment of the A-Z of Iceland, I talked about Iceland’s conversion to Christianity at the Alþing in 1000AD (a year that requires the AD because “in 1000” looks stupid). But I wasn’t very clear about what the Alþing actually is.

In Icelandic, a Þing (or Thing, if you prefer the Latin alphabet) is a kind of public meeting. The Alþing is a public meeting for everyone, specifically a parliament. It was held at Þingvellir – the Þing, or Parliament, Fields – and it was established in 930 and moved to a stone building in Reykjavik in 1918.

Estimated position of the Law Rock at Þingvellir today

Part of the reason so may Norwegians moved to Iceland in the first place was to escape the feuding and taxing of their various local kings & chieftains. Iceland was founded on the idea of not having a central figure in charge. And soon enough, they had local chieftains again. One of them was chosen every few years to be the Law-speaker, kind of the Viking equivalent to our UK Prime Minister. The Law-speakers job was to stand on the Law Rock and recite the entire law at the Alþing every year and ultimately to be the final judge at the various courts. Local chieftains had a certain amount of legal power but there was plenty saved up that had to be dealt with at the annual Parliament, at the Quarter Courts – which, surprise surprise, judged a quarter of the country each.

Somewhere around 1015, the Fifth Court was established as a supreme court which covered the entire country. If you want to read a thrilling legal saga on the subject of the Parliament and courts, a proper classic, go for Njal’s Saga. It’s got a lot of semi-comedic casual household murder.

I know we’re proud of our good old democratic Parliament in England (let’s say nothing about what it’s been doing in the last couple of years) but ours only goes back to 1215. Iceland’s is the oldest in the world, although it had a few years off which makes the Isle of Man’s Parliament the longest-running in the world.

Vikings at Þingvellir painting in the Culture House

But the Alþing isn’t all about the law. It’s why it was founded but it’s not its only function. The Alþing was also a huge party. Iceland is an inhospitable country geographically-speaking. You can fly from one end to the other in under an hour now – I’ve done it – but in the tenth century, you couldn’t just pop out of your farmhouse in Reykjanes to visit your mate in Seyðisfjörður. So there were parties and drinking and trading and gossiping and matchmaking and a bit more drinking and dancing and storytelling. It was a carnival. It was chaos. I imagine that a good number of cases that went before the courts originated in the festivities of the Alþing.

When Iceland came under Norway’s power in 1262, suddenly there was that unwanted central controlling figure. The Alþing continued but now the law upheld there was the law of Norway and the Norwegian king was the ultimate authority, not the Law-speaker, whose role was replaced with two legal administrators. And then came Danish rule, 200-odd years of Danish monopoly on everything. No longer could the Icelanders hold their own Parliament even to legislate someone else’s law. It ceased to be a Parliament and became merely a law court. No longer did Icelanders have any say in anything.

We like Denmark nowadays, they’re a good country and a progressive country. but those days were some of the darkest in Iceland’s history. Under the terms of the trade monopoly, the country nearly starved, barely able to survive on its lamb and fish supplies. When Laki erupted in 1783, the surviving Icelandic population was so small that Denmark considered shipping them over and making a village in Denmark of them. Not a town. An entire country nearly became a village.

The new Alþing building in Reykjavik

The Alþing was disbanded in 1800 and replaced with a High Court. It reconvened in 1845, gradually regaining power and members and then a new building in Reykjavik in 1881, where it still lives today. It’s a pretty good Parliament, as these things go. It counts 6 members of the Pirate Party among its 63 members and although I know nothing about Icelandic party politics, I like the sound of a Pirate Party, especially from a country of Vikings.