The Day Iceland Stopped: How Women Shut Down a Nation—and Changed History
On October 24, 1975, Iceland woke up to something unprecedented.
Nearly every woman in the country—around 90%—didn’t go to work.
They didn’t cook.
They didn’t clean.
They didn’t care for children.
Instead, they walked out.
They called it Kvennafrídagurinn—Women’s Day Off.
And by the end of that day, Iceland would never be the same.
A Morning Without Women
That Friday began quietly—but strangely.
No breakfast routines.
No school drop-offs.
No women heading to offices, factories, schools, or switchboards.
Men assumed it was just another day.
By mid-morning, the country was in chaos.
A Nation Grinds to a Halt
One by one, Iceland’s essential systems failed:
Fish factories shut down—most workers were women.
Newspapers didn’t print—typesetters were women.
Telephones went silent—operators were women.
Schools closed—teachers were women.
Flights were canceled—flight attendants were women.
Banks barely functioned, forcing executives to work teller windows.
By noon, grocery stores ran out of hot dogs and sausages—the only meals many fathers knew how to prepare.
Across the country, men arrived at work carrying children. Employers scrambled, handing out candy, paper, and crayons, trying to manage offices that had suddenly turned into daycare centers.
Later, men would give the day a name:
“The Long Friday.”
Reykjavík Fills the Streets
While the country struggled, 25,000 women gathered in downtown Reykjavík.
That number was staggering.
In 1975, Iceland’s entire population was just 220,000.
More than one in ten Icelanders—and nearly every woman in the capital—stood shoulder to shoulder.
They listened to speakers from every background:
a housewife
a factory worker
union representatives
members of parliament
They talked about wages, unpaid labor, respect, and dignity.
Many felt something radical—something new.
“We were convinced that everything had changed,” one woman later said.
“We were on cloud nine.”
Why It Happened
This didn’t come out of nowhere.
By 1975:
Women earned less than 60% of men’s wages
Only 5% of parliament was female
Decades after winning the vote, real equality had stalled
Unpaid labor—childcare, cooking, cleaning—was invisible and unvalued
Anger had been building quietly for years.
Then the United Nations declared 1975 International Women’s Year.
Women’s organizations met to plan events. One group—the Redstockings, a radical feminist movement—suggested something daring:
A nationwide strike.
One day.
Every woman.
No paid work.
No unpaid work.
But there was a problem: strikes were illegal without union approval.
So the organizers made a brilliant choice.
They didn’t call it a strike.
They called it a day off.
The Strategy That Changed Everything
Five major women’s organizations formed the Committee for the Women’s Day Off.
They coordinated across cities, towns, and rural villages.
They chose October 24—United Nations Day.
And on that morning, women simply… didn’t show up.
The absence spoke louder than any protest ever could.
The Message Was Clear
By evening, even the most skeptical men understood:
Women’s work—paid and unpaid—holds society together.
Without it, nothing functions.
At midnight, women returned to night shifts. At the conservative newspaper Morgunblaðið, the staff rushed out a shortened edition—16 pages instead of 24—entirely devoted to the day Iceland stopped.
Change Didn’t Come Overnight—But It Came
In 1976, Iceland passed a gender equality law.
More women ran for office.
More demanded equal pay.
More refused to accept invisibility.
And then, in 1980, history was made.
The World’s First Democratically Elected Female President
Iceland elected Vigdís Finnbogadóttir as president—the first woman in the world to be chosen as a head of state by democratic election.
Her campaign was brutal.
She was attacked for:
being divorced
being a single, adoptive mother
surviving breast cancer
In a televised debate, an opponent sneered:
“Do you really want to be ruled by a woman with only one breast?”
Her reply was calm—and devastating:
“I had no intention of taking the Icelandic people to my breast.”
She won.
By a narrow margin—but she won.
Finnbogadóttir served 16 years, and she never forgot how it began.
“I am president today as a result of the women’s strike in 1975.”
A Legacy That Keeps Repeating
Icelandic women repeated the strategy in:
1985
2005
2010
2016
2018
Each time, they left work early—at the exact hour women stopped getting paid compared to men.
2005: 2:08 PM
2016: 2:38 PM
2018: 2:55 PM
The later times showed progress.
The strikes themselves showed unfinished work.
A Global Ripple Effect
In 2016, Polish women facing extreme abortion laws looked to Iceland for inspiration.
A post about the 1975 strike went viral.
Days later, hundreds of thousands of Polish women walked out, directly modeling Iceland’s action.
Fifty Years Later
Today, Iceland regularly ranks as the most gender-equal country in the world.
In recent years, women have held:
prime minister
president
chief of police
university leadership across the country
This wasn’t accidental.
It wasn’t gifted.
It was earned.
The Lesson of October 24, 1975
The strike proved something simple—and powerful:
Systems of inequality survive only because people cooperate with them.
When cooperation is withdrawn—together, strategically, boldly—those systems collapse.
One day.
Ninety percent participation.
A nation transformed.
For men, it was The Long Friday.
For women, it was the beginning of everything.
And fifty years later, Iceland’s women are still standing.
