When Icelanders go to the polls on Saturday, the question is not whether to join the European Union outright, but whether to give the government a mandate to resume accession negotiations suspended since 2015. A 'Yes' would set in motion a process that could ultimately lead to full membership — and it is a prospect being watched with particular unease in Oslo.
Norway is the non-EU country with the most at stake. As a member of the European Economic Area (EEA), it enjoys access to the EU's single market without a seat at the table where the rules are made. If Iceland were to leave the EEA for the EU, Norway would find itself in an increasingly lonely position.
A shrinking club
The EEA currently extends the single market to three non-EU states: Iceland, Liechtenstein and Norway. Should Iceland depart, the agreement would effectively become a bilateral arrangement between Brussels and Oslo, with Liechtenstein — a principality of roughly 40,000 people, closely tied to Switzerland — as the only other partner.
Norwegian Foreign Minister Espen Barth Eide acknowledged the stakes in a parliamentary address in May: “We must recognise that an Icelandic membership process will pose special challenges for Norway as an EEA country.” He later noted that the balance of power within the agreement would shift dramatically, from an original 12 countries against 7 to 28 against 2.
That imbalance is not merely symbolic. The EEA was designed as a compromise for countries that wanted single-market access without full political integration. If Iceland — a state with similar concerns over fisheries and sovereignty — decides that full membership is the better path, the argument that the EEA remains a viable long-term alternative becomes harder to sustain.
Iceland's Prime Minister Kristrún Frostadóttir, after meeting her Norwegian counterpart Jonas Gahr Støre in February, stressed that the EEA would remain active regardless of the outcome. “We will keep the EEA Agreement active whatever happens,” she said. “Because if a yes comes out of this referendum on our side, there is still a decision to be taken on full membership. If a no comes out of it, we need to rely on the EEA Agreement being strong and active.”
A history of reluctance
Norway's relationship with the European project has long been fraught. Voters rejected EU membership in referendums in 1972 and 1994, with 53.5% and 52% voting 'No' respectively — on both occasions making Norway the only candidate country to do so. Public opinion has shifted little since; a poll published this month by the Norwegian daily ABC Nyheter found 49% opposed to membership, against 37% in favour.
The core concerns — control over fisheries and agriculture, and a reluctance to cede sovereignty to a bloc where Norway would have limited influence — remain as potent as they were three decades ago. Iceland shares many of these anxieties, which is why Saturday's vote is not a direct referendum on membership but a first step in a longer process. Any eventual accession deal would still require a second referendum in Iceland.
That staged approach is one reason Norwegian Eurosceptics are watching closely. Hallgrimur Oddsson, director of the think tank Evrópustraumar, told Euronews that Norwegians would “follow very closely” how negotiations develop, particularly on fisheries. He expects pro-EU parties to seize on any momentum, though he cautioned that Norway's history is different: “Their history is also different.”
The prospect of a revived membership debate is deeply divisive in Norway. Trygve Slagsvold Vedum, leader of the Eurosceptic Centre Party, warned that an Icelandic 'Yes' could embolden pro-EU forces. “The EU forces in Norway will paint a frightening picture of Norway outside the EU. We will see an unprecedented black painting,” he said, calling opposition to membership the most important issue in Norwegian politics.
On the other side, Guri Melby, leader of the pro-EU Liberal Party, argued that Iceland's less divisive approach to the question should serve as a model. Conservative MP Ine Eriksen Søreide told a parliamentary hearing in March that the geopolitical landscape had fundamentally changed, and that as the EU deepens integration, Norway will find it increasingly difficult to protect its interests from outside.
Whichever way Iceland votes, the consequences will ripple across the Nordic region. If Reykjavík moves closer to Brussels, Oslo may be forced to confront a question it has long avoided: whether the EEA is still a meaningful alternative to full membership, or merely a waiting room. For now, the Norwegian government insists the EEA remains the foundation of its relationship with the EU — but the ground beneath that foundation is shifting.
