The character of a nation is often defined not by the principles it declares, but by its adherence to them in moments of political and moral consequence. For decades, Iceland has curated an international identity as a champion of human rights and a staunch supporter of the international rule of law. Central to this identity has been its vocal solidarity with the Palestinian people, a position that seemed to reach its zenith on November 29, 2011, when the Althingi, Iceland’s Parliament, voted decisively to recognize Palestine as an independent and sovereign state. This principled stand, a landmark for a Western nation, appeared to be the manifestation of a deeply held public and political will.

Yet, a critical examination of Iceland’s subsequent actions reveals a profound and disturbing paradox. The integrity of this principled stand has been compromised by a series of governmental decisions that are not only ethically incongruous but legally untenable. This is a study of that paradox, a story of how a nation’s stated values were betrayed by its own government.

The first and most jarring reversal occurred in 2018. A coalition government led by Prime Minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir of the Left-Green Movement—a party whose very platform is ostensibly rooted in peace and human rights—oversaw the procurement of a Hermes-type unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) from Elbit Systems, Israel’s largest private arms manufacturer. The claim of ignorance is not a plausible defense for this decision. The operational history of the Elbit Hermes drone was not a secret; it was, in fact, its core selling point.

This drone was notoriously “battle-tested” during Israel’s 2014 “Operation Protective Edge” in Gaza. Its instrumental role in surveillance and targeting within the besieged enclave was widely documented. The impact of these weapons, however, extends far beyond their initial testing ground, a fact I can personally and painfully attest to.

As an Icelandic citizen, I was in Iran just last month, during the June 13, 2025 Israeli attacks. I managed to leave the country only two days ago. This was not a distant event viewed on a screen; it was a complex operation designed to sow chaos and death. I was there when reports emerged that Hermes 900 drones—the same type used against civilians in Palestine—were shot down. I was there when Iranian authorities reportedly confiscated hundreds of suicide drones very close to where I was staying. The visceral fear of that moment was crystallized in a message from my son, asking a simple, horrifying question: “Are you alive?”

We could all have gone the same way. The danger was not hypothetical; it was immediate. That an Icelandic citizen’s life could be put at such risk by an an illegal and unprovoked state attack involving the very category of military technology my own government chose to purchase, lays the hypocrisy bare. This raises a question of staggering moral weight: Was there truly no other option for a country that needs to monitor its fishing grounds? Was the only viable choice a piece of military hardware forged in conflict and tested on civilians, simply to surveil fish? The answer is unequivocally no. A robust market of alternatives for maritime surveillance from European and North American manufacturers has existed for years. The choice to purchase from Elbit was one of preference, not necessity.

This critique, however, is not merely moral; it is rooted firmly in the principles of international law that Iceland claims to cherish. The Hermes drone is an instrument used to perpetrate acts that legal authorities define as the most serious crimes of international concern. In the sovereign nation of Lebanon, the constant, unauthorized use of these drones for surveillance and strikes is a flagrant violation of the UN Charter, with strikes resulting in civilian deaths amounting to what human rights organizations have labeled as war crimes. In occupied Palestine, their use is foundational to the allegations of war crimes and crimes against humanity that led the Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court (ICC) to seek arrest warrants for Israel’s PM Netanyahu. And in Iran, the unprovoked attacks fall under the definition of the “crime of aggression”—the supreme international crime. The fact that this is precisely the same crime Russia is accused of in Ukraine only serves to underscore the painful reality that not all lives are valued equally.

This unavoidable legal context makes the Icelandic government’s present-day political paralysis all the more damning. The Icelandic public has demonstrated its outrage in massive, sustained protests, demanding an end to all complicity. Yet, the current government, led by Prime Minister Bjarni Benediktsson and Foreign Minister Þórdís Kolbrún Reykfjörð Gylfadóttir, has refused to allow a vote on a formal arms embargo against Israel to proceed in Parliament. This inaction persists even as the head of the Israeli government, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, faces an arrest warrant application from the ICC Prosecutor. The government has hidden behind vague and non-credible excuses about the need for multilateral action, a hollow argument when faced with clear-cut violations of international law and overwhelming public demand for unilateral moral clarity.

This leads to the ultimate question for Iceland’s leadership: Why are you bowing before leaders accused of being war criminals by the ICC and allowing the international rule of law to die a slow death?

The will of the people is not a suggestion; in a democracy, it is the fundamental instruction upon which lawmakers are empowered to act. If the current leaders are not there to represent the will of the Icelandic people on an issue of such profound legal and ethical importance, then one must echo the calls heard in the streets of Reykjavik: they should step down.

Appendix: Voting Record on Parliamentary Resolution 1/140, Recognition of Palestine (Nov 29, 2011)

Voted FOR (Já) – 38:

Social Democratic Alliance (Samfylkingin): Árni Páll Árnason, Helgi Hjörvar, Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir, Jón Gunnarsson, Katrín Júlíusdóttir, Kristján L. Möller, Lúðvík Geirsson, Magnús Orri Schram, Oddný G. Harðardóttir, Ólína Þorvarðardóttir, Róbert Marshall, Sigmundur Ernir Rúnarsson, Sigríður Ingibjörg Ingadóttir, Skúli Helgason, Valgerður Bjarnadóttir, Össur Skarphéðinsson.

Left-Green Movement (Vinstrihreyfingin – grænt framboð): Álfheiður Ingadóttir, Árni Þór Sigurðsson, Bjarkey Gunnarsdóttir, Katrín Jakobsdóttir, Lilja Rafney Magnúsdóttir, Steingrímur J. Sigfússon, Svandís Svavarsdóttir, Þuríður Backman.

Progressive Party (Framsóknarflokkurinn): Birkir Jón Jónsson, Eygló Harðardóttir, Gunnar Bragi Sveinsson, Höskuldur Þór Þórhallsson, Sigmundur Davíð Gunnlaugsson, Sigurður Ingi Jóhannsson, Siv Friðleifsdóttir, Vigdís Hauksdóttir.

The Movement (Hreyfingin): Birgitta Jónsdóttir, Margrét Tryggvadóttir, Þór Saari.

Independents: Lilja Mósesdóttir, Guðmundur Steingrímsson.

Voted AGAINST (Nei) – 1:

Progressive Party (Framsóknarflokkurinn): Ásmundur Einar Daðason.

ABSTAINED (Sat hjá) – 13:

Independence Party (Sjálfstæðisflokkurinn): Ásbjörn Óttarsson, Birgir Ármannsson, Bjarni Benediktsson, Einar K. Guðfinnsson, Guðlaugur Þór Þórðarson, Jón Gunnarsson, Kristján Þór Júlíusson, Ólöf Nordal, Pétur H. Blöndal, Ragnheiður E. Árnadóttir, Ragnheiður Ríkharðsdóttir, Tryggvi Þór Herbertsson, Þorgerður Katrín Gunnarsdóttir.