Thank you all for marching with us on May day and celebrating 10 years of IWW in Iceland in Andrými (check our history here!)
To our radical block, No Borders, Rauða Regnhlífin/Red Umbrella, Hinsegin Heift, Trans Ísland and IWW Ísland, and all the comrades in Andrými, we felt the solidarity!
A radical speech written by two of our comrades, a refugee and a scholar, for May Day:
„Like all refugees, I came to Iceland seeking not just shelter from war, but the possibility of a real home — a place where I could finally stop running and begin living. Yet even here, in a peaceаful land, dignity does not come automatically. To be considered worthy of assistance — to be seen fully as human — remains a struggle in itself
I am considered one of those who „got lucky“. I have been able to access financial aid and receive a social security number, work and study permit, Icelandic language courses, and I’ve been able to find a place to rent in the two month deadline after arrival refugees are given. But this fortune is not shared equally, and is mostly that of Ukrainians, even though a lot of us still fall through the cracks. Refugees from Palestine, Syria, Venezuela, Ghana, Afghanistan, Sudan, Somalia, Yemen — and so many other places scarred by war, colonialism, ecological devastation, and man-made disaster — are often treated as invisible, disposable, and undeserving. Many don’t even get to the first step of integration, or inclusion, for that matter.
They are confined to camps, denied basic rights, criminalized, and deported without mercy. While Ukrainian refugees have largely been welcomed, others are met with suspicion, neglect, and hostility. Last year alone, 9,000 migrants died attempting to cross borders. Over the past decade, despite endless global pledges to protect migrants, more than 63,000 people have died or gone missing while fleeing conflict, poverty, and persecution — with 2023 marking the deadliest year yet, according to the U.N.’s Missing Migrants Project.
Since 2021, migrants trapped at the Polish-Belarusian border have faced extreme violence, dehumanizing conditions, and a near-total absence of humanitarian access, as new laws have legalized the use of force against them and human rights protections have all but collapsed. Many froze to death in the forests. Among the 130 known deaths, the most haunting case was that of Avin Irfan Zahir, a pregnant Kurdish woman whose 24-week-old fetus died inside her due to the brutal conditions. She herself died shortly after in hospital.
This double standard is not a coincidence. It reveals the ongoing legacy of racism and colonialism that still shapes our world — even here in Iceland, even among ourselves. It is a system that values some lives more than others, pretending that suffering has a nationality, a skin color, or a „worthy cause.“ We must see through this lie.
Right now, in Palestine, more than 50,000 people have been killed. Israel has murdered more journalists than in all other wars combined since World War I. Today, as we celebrate International Workers’ Day, we must remember: not all workers are allowed to work, not all migrants are even given the right to survive with dignity. Those denied papers, denied homes, denied rights — they too are part of our class. They too are part of our movement. Look around you: your local supermarket, your local hospital, your local care center – black and brown overqualified workers are stacking shelves, cleaning floors, performing the essential labor that keeps society alive, while the dominant class hoards opportunity and status for themselves.
Iceland today reminds me of ancient Athens — a land where everyone is equal and democracy thrives — but just like in Athens, this dream rests on the invisible labor of a class that can barely survive.
For me personally, the feeling of pressure, uncertainty, and fear never goes away. The war interrupted my whole life. Since then, no sky — no matter how blue — has ever felt truly safe. I know my struggles are shared by many who have endured even longer, harder journeys, often without the sympathy of the media, politicians, or the public… Many refugees, even those who are „treated well“ in comparison, still struggle a lot. Most of us are denied jobs and housing, or if we aren’t, we get actively exploited and taken advantage of. Here to survive you have to abide by the rules that are set by those who are privileged, and do not know what it’s like to survive. And so when people fail to abide by these rules, Iceland has a habit of leaving it’s most vulnerable to the streets, saying there is nothing they can do to help us. And that is where the radical community comes in, to oppose this cruel, greedy, inhumane Capitalist system, where people are dispossessed of their dignity, divided, oppressed, left to suffer and die…
Today marks one year of my involvement with the radical community of Reykjavik. In that year I have experienced more solidarity, care, and understanding than in any year before that in my life, all thanks to the wonderful comrades and friends I’ve met. If not for them, I would be lost and helpless, even homeless at one point. Yet thanks to their kindness and support I am able to stand here today, and take part in the struggle for justice and well-being for all. Even this very speech is written with assistance from my dear radical family… I have marched with them. I have protested with them. I have raised funds, organized actions, stood in the cold, in the rain, shouting not just for my rights, but for all our rights. And I shall continue to do so. Thanks to this community, I am not alone. Thanks to them, I am no longer invisible. I am welcomed.
In the face of brutality, solidarity must continue and grow until this system changes. Join us in making this change. No human is illegal!“
