Referendum on Europe: A Fish Called Iceland

On 29 August 2026, Icelanders are being called to the polls for a referendum on reopening the process of accession to the European Union (EU), which has been on hold for over a decade. The vote is advisory, although the government has pledged to respect the result. If the ‘yes’ vote wins, new negotiations would begin and a final accession agreement would then have to be put to the Icelandic people. With just a few days to go before the vote, the polls reveal a deeply divided country, illustrating a dilemma concerning sovereignty and power. It also, by extension, raises a potential strategic consideration for the EU’s future: is it capable of developing a new maritime and fisheries strategy should Iceland join the Union?

Spatio-temporal reference points

On a map, Iceland appears to be on the periphery, with just under half a million inhabitants on this volcanic island in the North Atlantic. But on an oceanic map, it takes on a more central role, occupying a pivotal position between Europe, North America and the Arctic. This encapsulates the whole of Iceland’s geopolitical paradox: a minor power in terms of land area and population, but a major maritime and fishing power. China, incidentally, is well aware of this, seeking to establish a foothold in Iceland as part of its Polar Silk Roads strategy.

Iceland is already deeply integrated into the European area. A founding member of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) in 1949, it has been a member of the European Free Trade Association since 1970, the European Economic Area (EEA) since 1994 and the Schengen Area since 2001. It therefore applies a considerable proportion of the rules of the European single market and participates in numerous programmes without being a member of the EU. Its economy is also closely linked to the continent. This economic and institutional proximity sometimes makes it difficult to discern what truly still separates Reykjavik from Brussels.

However, two key sectors remain specifically excluded from the day-to-day functioning of the EEA: agriculture and fisheries. This is, of course, no trivial matter. One of Iceland’s distinctive features lies in the importance of its natural resources, particularly its marine resources. Its prosperity, its history and part of its identity have been built around this life-giving sea. Iceland had officially applied for EU membership in 2009, against the backdrop of the severe international financial crisis, which had not spared the country. Negotiations were suspended in 2013, before the process was abandoned in 2015. Fisheries were already among the main points of contention.

More than a decade on, the global context has changed, notably with Trump’s half-hearted attempts to acquire Greenland, which are disrupting Iceland’s calculations and altering the stakes in the Arctic for the EU. However, whilst Iceland and the EU may find new geopolitical reasons to draw closer together, fisheries remain the backbone of their divisions.

Iceland’s unique fishing industry

Fishing and aquaculture account for around 7 per cent of GDP, 5 per cent of employment and nearly 40 per cent of Iceland’s exports of goods. Catches average 1.4 million tonnes per year, of which around 710,000 tonnes are demersal species – including some 220,000 tonnes of cod – and 550,000 tonnes are pelagic fish such as capelin, mackerel and herring. Aquaculture is growing, particularly in salmon farming. It must be said that many EU countries are mad about it (starting with France) without producing any along their coasts or on their own soil.

To discuss Iceland’s potential accession to the European Union without mentioning fish would be almost like talking about Saudi Arabia without mentioning oil. For Icelandic fishing is not a peripheral economic activity that needs to be kept artificially afloat. On the contrary, Icelanders are proud of it and are banking on this sector. It is a wealth-generating, export-oriented, high-performing sector that is deeply integrated into global supply chains. Its wild-caught fish – notably cod, haddock and pelagic species – as well as its aquaculture produce are in high demand in markets where competition is global. Icelandic products have a strong presence on the European market. Operators have adapted to Brexit, notably by redirecting part of their trade flows to the Netherlands before redistributing them to other Member States. Iceland therefore already has access to the European market without being a member of the EU.

Fishing in Iceland: a symbol of sovereignty

Between the 1950s and the 1970s, the famous ‘Cod Wars’ pitted Iceland against the United Kingdom over the expansion of Icelandic fishing zones. Reykjavik gradually succeeded in asserting its control up to 200 nautical miles from its coastline. For this small island nation, control over the sea and its resources has thus become a particularly tangible expression of national independence. This legacy remains very much alive. Whilst other states conceive of their sovereignty primarily in terms of their land borders, Iceland also conceives of it in terms of its fish, its quotas, its vessels and its maritime space. And this is the main source of tension surrounding potential EU accession: for the Icelandic fishing industry, the incentive to join remains low. 

For Reykjavik, the issue is first and foremost one of sovereignty. Iceland largely determines its own rules for managing fishery resources and jealously guards control over its stocks, quotas and access to its waters. However, membership would oblige Iceland to negotiate its integration into the Common Fisheries Policy (CFP). The details would obviously be subject to discussion, but the principle is politically explosive: why transfer part of its decision-making power to Brussels over a resource considered to be national, strategic and particularly valuable? Why change a model that works, accept more common rules and give up some autonomy when access to the European market already exists? Whilst for Brussels, fisheries might be one of the reasons for wanting Iceland in the Union, for part of the Icelandic fishing industry, it is precisely one of the best reasons to stay out.

Joining the EU whilst turning our noses up at fish?

Let’s be realistic: the CFP does not exactly inspire Reykjavik. This assessment is all the more valid given that the European fishing industry itself is facing significant pressures and that the EU is struggling to set a clear course for its fisheries strategy. It is worth recalling here that seafood is one of the main sources of food in most EU countries. This applies to France, a major maritime power – though not when it comes to what ends up on the plate. For several decades, the CFP has sought to reconcile three imperatives: the economic exploitation of resources, ensuring the renewal of stocks, and protecting marine ecosystems. Quotas, fishing effort limits, constraints on fleet capacity (energy costs, an ageing workforce, etc.), the expansion of marine protected areas and the proliferation of environmental standards are fuelling a sense amongst some European fishermen that the fishing grounds are shrinking. The European fleet is shrinking, and its dilapidated state is a cause for concern. Some shipowners are facing serious economic difficulties, particularly as international competition has intensified.

The EU wants to protect its marine areas, yet it imports vast quantities of the seafood it consumes. Reducing fishing pressure in European waters may bring local environmental benefits. But if consumption remains at the same level and is met by increased imports, the pressure on resources does not necessarily disappear. It may simply be shifted to other seas. Is the question not, rather, how Europe can simultaneously preserve its resources and maintain its production capacity? This could be the Icelandic narrative, particularly as it is hard to imagine the country ceasing to be a major fishing power even if EU accession were on the cards. Put another way, could Reykjavik help to shape the future of the CFP and the EU’s approach to fisheries?

Looking to the future

Brexit has shrunk Europe’s maritime sphere; Iceland could expand it. The UK’s departure in 2020 has exacerbated the challenges facing European fisheries. The prospect of Iceland joining the EU could reshuffle the deck a decade later. Iceland’s exclusive economic zone covers approximately 758,000 km². Its accession would therefore significantly increase the maritime area under the jurisdiction of an EU Member State. Iceland’s catches alone account for around 30 per cent of the volumes currently fished by the EU-27. With Iceland, the EU would account for 5 per cent of global catches.

Today, Iceland is both a partner and a formidable competitor to the European Union in the fisheries sector. It has a productive fleet, recognised scientific expertise, an efficient processing industry and a highly structured resource management system. Together with Norway, it exemplifies a form of Nordic fisheries power based on a combination of resources, technology, fleet efficiency and stock management. As long as it remains outside the EU, this power is partly exercised in opposition to it: commercial competition, negotiations on shared stocks, market access, quotas and power struggles over migratory species. But accession would change the outlook. An integrated Iceland could become a major contributor to Europe’s fisheries and food supply capacity. On one condition, however: that the EU wishes to regain its status as a fisheries power and assume its role as a key player in Arctic maritime affairs.

This is where the Icelandic referendum becomes a European issue if the ‘yes’ vote prevails on 28 August and the accession process is thereby relaunched. The EU will transform Iceland, but Iceland could also bring about change in the European fishing industry. This would obviously not mean going back on the need for sustainable resource management. A fishing power can only remain so in the long term by preserving the biological capital on which it depends. But sustainability and power are not necessarily contradictory.

From this perspective, a parallel can be drawn with Ukraine’s agricultural sector, which would bring considerable strength to the EU in this area should Kyiv join tomorrow – if, and only if, a geopolitical and geo-economic vision is articulated. Without this, agriculture will be the most explosive and divisive issue in the EU-Ukraine dialogue. The situations are, of course, very different in terms of their scale, history and geopolitical context. But they both raise questions about how the Union envisages its future enlargements. Ukraine and Iceland thus pose, each in their own sphere, the same question to Brussels: does enlargement consist solely of extending a legal and regulatory framework, or can it also serve to bring together new sources of power?

When fish reshape geopolitics

Let us add another layer to the previous considerations. The EU–Iceland issue becomes even more strategic in the context of climate change. Warmer waters are gradually altering the geographical distribution of certain species. Fish stocks are changing, migrating or becoming more variable. Some species are becoming more prevalent in certain areas whilst abandoning others. The geography of fishing is therefore not set in stone. The tensions surrounding mackerel between Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Norway and the EU illustrate this point. They could foreshadow further disputes as climate change transforms the ecosystems of the North Atlantic. A fish that shifts in latitude can displace economic value, disrupt quotas and intensify diplomatic negotiations. Fisheries governance is thus becoming a form of climate geopolitics. It compels coastal states to simultaneously negotiate the conservation of migratory stocks, access to fishing grounds and the sharing of the wealth they generate. This development automatically reinforces the strategic value of states that possess, at the same time, extensive maritime areas, recognised scientific expertise and a thriving fishing industry. Iceland embodies precisely these three characteristics.

The sea drives Iceland to preserve its autonomy; geopolitics may push it towards the EU. Unlike Norway, Iceland does not have the same financial and energy reserves to absorb the shocks of a more uncertain international environment. In a world where power dynamics are coming to the fore once again, a small population may once again become a vulnerability. The referendum campaign naturally leads Icelanders to ask themselves what the EU could offer them: security, political influence, economic stability or the prospect of monetary integration. The geopolitical dynamics in the Arctic are driving a move towards closer ties with the EU. Yet sovereignty over fisheries calls for caution. However, it is also worth asking what the EU would gain from Iceland. From this perspective, the issue of fisheries – with its maritime and economic-food dimensions – is unavoidable.