October 24, 1975, was a remarkable day in Iceland. Across the nation, women walked out of their jobs, at sea, in factories, in offices, and at home. Their goal was simple but powerful: to show the nation how essential women’s labor was to society. Demonstrations took place across the country, with an estimated 25,000 people (over 11% of Iceland’s population) gathering in central Reykjavík for what became one of the largest outdoor rallies in Icelandic history.
The action was part of the United Nations’ International Women’s Year. Earlier that year, the Redstockings of the Women's Liberation Movement (Rauðsokkahreyfingin) organized a conference on the conditions of low-wage-earning women. There, they floated the idea of a national strike to protest the systemic undervaluing of women’s work. The proposal, long considered unrealistic, gained momentum. That summer, a women’s conference in Reykjavík passed a resolution urging women to walk out on UN Day: October 24.
October 24, 1975, was a remarkable day in Iceland. Across the nation, women walked out of their jobs, at sea, in factories, in offices, and at home. Their goal was simple but powerful: to show the nation how essential women’s labor was to society. Demonstrations took place across the country, with an estimated 25,000 people (over 11% of Iceland’s population) gathering in central Reykjavík for what became one of the largest outdoor rallies in Icelandic history.
The action was part of the United Nations’ International Women’s Year. Earlier that year, the Redstockings of the Women's Liberation Movement (Rauðsokkahreyfingin) organized a conference on the conditions of low-wage-earning women. There, they floated the idea of a national strike to protest the systemic undervaluing of women’s work. The proposal, long considered unrealistic, gained momentum. That summer, a women’s conference in Reykjavík passed a resolution urging women to walk out on UN Day: October 24.
October 24, 1975, was a remarkable day in Iceland. Across the nation, women walked out of their jobs, at sea, in factories, in offices, and at home. Their goal was simple but powerful: to show the nation how essential women’s labor was to society. Demonstrations took place across the country, with an estimated 25,000 people (over 11% of Iceland’s population) gathering in central Reykjavík for what became one of the largest outdoor rallies in Icelandic history.
The action was part of the United Nations’ International Women’s Year. Earlier that year, the Redstockings of the Women's Liberation Movement (Rauðsokkahreyfingin) organized a conference on the conditions of low-wage-earning women. There, they floated the idea of a national strike to protest the systemic undervaluing of women’s work. The proposal, long considered unrealistic, gained momentum. That summer, a women’s conference in Reykjavík passed a resolution urging women to walk out on UN Day: October 24.
How Women Mobilized a Nation
How Women Mobilized a Nation
How Women Mobilized a Nation
Once organizers committed to the idea, a cross-political planning group came together. They debated the name of the event; some preferred “women’s strike,” others “women’s day off.” In the end, “Women’s Day Off” was chosen to broaden appeal, though many continued to call it a strike.
Time was short, but Iceland’s small size and tight-knit networks helped. Activists formed working groups across the country, tapping into women’s associations, labor unions, and personal networks. A dedicated media team helped spread the word, and the international press quickly picked up the story.
Flyers outlined the reasons for the protest: women’s work—paid and unpaid—was consistently undervalued. Working women earned significantly less than men in the same roles. Housework and caregiving counted for nothing in the labor market. No women sat on the wage negotiation committee of Iceland’s national labor federation. Women were routinely passed over for jobs, regardless of their qualifications, simply because of their gender.
Photographer: Snorri. Z / Women's History Archives
Photographer: Borghildur Óskarsdóttir / Women’s History Archives
Women in Iceland gained the right to vote and run for office gradually. Before they secured national suffrage, they had already won these rights in municipal elections.
In fact, at least three Icelandic women cast votes in local elections before suffrage was formally granted. Their actions stemmed from a legal ambiguity between the Danish and Icelandic versions of the electoral law. At the time, Iceland was still under Danish rule. Danish law stated that “men” who met certain conditions could vote, clearly meaning males. But in Icelandic, the word maður (man) was often used more broadly to include both men and women.Three women, including one divorcée and two widows, interpreted the law in their favor. All were financially independent property owners. The best known among them was shopkeeper Vilhelmína Lever, who voted in Akureyri’s municipal election in 1863, twenty years before women were officially granted voting rights in local elections.
Photographer: Snorri. Z / Women's History Archives
Photographer: Borghildur Óskarsdóttir / Women’s History Archives
Women in Iceland gained the right to vote and run for office gradually. Before they secured national suffrage, they had already won these rights in municipal elections.
In fact, at least three Icelandic women cast votes in local elections before suffrage was formally granted. Their actions stemmed from a legal ambiguity between the Danish and Icelandic versions of the electoral law. At the time, Iceland was still under Danish rule. Danish law stated that “men” who met certain conditions could vote, clearly meaning males. But in Icelandic, the word maður (man) was often used more broadly to include both men and women. Three women, including one divorcée and two widows, interpreted the law in their favor. All were financially independent property owners. The best known among them was shopkeeper Vilhelmína Lever, who voted in Akureyri’s municipal election in 1863, twenty years before women were officially granted voting rights in local elections.
Vilhelmína Lever seen through the eyes of the artist Kristinn G. Jóhannsson.
Image of an election document showing that Vilhelmína Lever voted, while another woman who also had the right to vote did not.
A Nation Grinds to a Halt
A Nation Grinds to a Halt
A Nation Grinds to a Halt
The day surpassed all expectations. Even the weather cooperated—jokingly attributed to a strike committee member who worked at the Icelandic Meteorological Office. Organizers estimated that 90% of Icelandic women took part. Schools and daycares closed. Workplaces emptied. Many fathers had no choice but to bring their children to work.
The mass action demonstrated the power of solidarity among women of all backgrounds and political beliefs. While some activists later expressed disappointment that the momentum didn’t fully carry forward, the event left a lasting legacy. People now remember the 1975 Women’s Day Off as a landmark moment in Icelandic history and recognize it worldwide as a powerful act of collective action.
The day surpassed all expectations. Even the weather cooperated—jokingly attributed to a strike committee member who worked at the Icelandic Meteorological Office. Organizers estimated that 90% of Icelandic women took part. Schools and daycares closed. Workplaces emptied. Many fathers had no choice but to bring their children to work.
The mass action demonstrated the power of solidarity among women of all backgrounds and political beliefs. While some activists later expressed disappointment that the momentum didn’t fully carry forward, the event left a lasting legacy. People now remember the 1975 Women’s Day Off as a landmark moment in Icelandic history and recognize it worldwide as a powerful act of collective action.
The day surpassed all expectations. Even the weather cooperated—jokingly attributed to a strike committee member who worked at the Icelandic Meteorological Office. Organizers estimated that 90% of Icelandic women took part. Schools and daycares closed. Workplaces emptied. Many fathers had no choice but to bring their children to work.
The mass action demonstrated the power of solidarity among women of all backgrounds and political beliefs. While some activists later expressed disappointment that the momentum didn’t fully carry forward, the event left a lasting legacy. People now remember the 1975 Women’s Day Off as a landmark moment in Icelandic history and recognize it worldwide as a powerful act of collective action.
From the Women's Strike in 2023 Images / Forseti.is
The parliamentarians Svava Jakobsdóttir and Sigurlaug Bjarnadóttir deliver a speech to motivate the members of parliament on Women’s Day in 1975. Photographer unknown. Preservation: Women’s History Archive of Iceland.
The parliamentarians Svava Jakobsdóttir and Sigurlaug Bjarnadóttir deliver a speech to motivate the members of parliament on Women’s Day in 1975.
Photographer unknown. Preservation: Women’s History Archive of Iceland.
Since then, Icelandic women have repeated the protest six more times: in 1985, 2005, 2010, 2016, 2018, and 2023.
Since then, Icelandic women have repeated the protest six more times: in 1985, 2005, 2010, 2016, 2018, and 2023.
Since then, Icelandic women have repeated the protest six more times: in 1985, 2005, 2010, 2016, 2018, and 2023.
