What is Snorri Más­son talking about?

I have listened to Snorri Másson’s recent comments on immigration from outside the EU with true bafflement. Snorri’s insistence that individuals from outside the EU are such a large problem that a crackdown is warranted is, bluntly, not backed up by the existing law. I am thus forced to assume that Snorri Másson has not read the Law on Foreigners lately, or perhaps ever; I also believe he has never talked to a person from outside of the European Economic Area. I have read the Law on Foreigners, and I am a person from outside of the European Economic Area, so I shall volunteer to explain.

Icelanders often imagine that people from outside the European Economic Area are using temporary residence as a “back door.” This is legally impossible. For example, a person living on a student residence permit can only count two years of it towards the four mandatory years of permanent residency. It is not possible to spin out a student visa for decades. One must eventually go home. This country is not a seething nest of shadowly underworlds – it is in fact quite small. The police will track an overstayer down, and then they will be banned for up to a decade. Nothing to worry about!

In fact, if a person from outside the European Economic Area wishes to live permanently in Iceland, their options are as follows:

• They can come over on a specialist work permit. They must be an expert in their field, and there must be no one of equivalent talent in the entire European Economic Area. If they lose their job before they qualify for permanent residency, they must leave.
• They must be an athlete of sufficient talent such that an Icelandic team is willing to be responsible for their training. If the relationship between team and athlete breaks down before they qualify for permanent residency, they must leave.
• Special ties to Iceland. These terms are nebulous, though the people who get these types of permits are usually renowned artists or wealthy businesspeople
• They must be a victim of human trafficking.
• They must have qualified for international protection.
• They must be the partner or parent of an Icelandic citizen

That’s it.

In other words, the price of living permanently in Iceland as a person from outside the European Economic Area is to be an expert in one’s field to the point of outclassing all 350 million EU citizens, a world-class athlete, a groundbreaking artist, a victim of unspeakable abuse both sexual and physical, a person whose world has been destroyed by war or political persecution, or the immediate family member of an Icelandic citzen. Several of those categories are not anything any sane person would wish to happen to them just for the privilege of living near a Bónus. Even marriage presents its own problems: many immigrant women report staying in abusive marriages with Icelandic men out of fear they will lose their legal status, and they have access to fewer resources for leaving abusive relationships than Icelandic women . The costs in applying for and renewing these permits have become astronomical, in some cases reaching six figures, and the waiting time for a decision on citizenship has hit almost two years.

These strict rules have worked. Over thirty-five years, only 10,365 individuals from outside of the EU have become Icelandic citizens. That number includes former first lady Eliza Reid, trailblazing parliamentarian Amal Tamimi, and PEN Award-winning writer Anne Carson. That seems like a good crop!

I understand Snorri is quite busy these days, as he is on the television with some frequency. However, given that he is a broken record on the perils of immigration, it would behoove him to understand the basic facts of what he’s talking about. Perhaps if he knew these numbers, or even familiarized himself with the draconian nature of current laws, he would calm down.

In closing, I invite Snorri to read fellow Icelander Anne Carson’s wonderful translation of Antigone. It’s about doing what’s right in the face of oppression.

Then again, if he has to catch up on reading the laws, he probably doesn’t have the time.

The author is a doctoral student in Icelandic literature at Háskóli Íslands.