Having just announced his retirement from political life, the mayor of Ilulissat agreed to meet polarjournal.net and look back on his long career at the helm of the country’s 3rd largest city.
It stretches out above the fish processing plant and the small fishing port. The town hall of Ilulissat is also the administrative center of the Avannaata region (the northwestern quarter of Greenland). On the first floor, between the doors and the office chatter, the floor tiles gradually give way to carpet. We enter the mayor’s office, under a series of portraits of the municipal team, or rather Palle Jerimiassen invites us in.
With his imposing figure, he cuts an impressive sight. In his fifties, he has a broad smile that lights up his face, revealing a childlike joy. He sees many people come and go at the round table, which fills and empties every day. The office windows overlook the fishing boats. The boats come and go like the rhythms of the ice. He keeps an eye on what matters most: the heartbeat of the city.
When he takes a breath before speaking, he fills himself up and stands taller, spreading his arms wide. “I’ve been working in politics for 28 years, but I’m going to have to step down at the end of the month,” he explains, firm in his decision, his voice tinged with nostalgia. Health has not been good over the past six months, his body has spoken, and the opposition won the mayoral election in early April.
“I’m going to take a vacation with my family, I promised them,” he says, a little torn. “It felt good to make this decision. I’ll finally be able to be myself and be with my family.” Palle Jerimiassen is maneuvering a return to his old business, a tourism-related venture.
“If there’s one memory from those political years that I’d be particularly fond of, it would be the people I worked with. Here, people are independent, excellent sportsmen and entrepreneurs who don’t wait for the government, who do things for themselves.” People first, Icefjord Center second. Plans for the Icefjord Center are posted in the hallway. It took a lot of convincing to get this building off the ground and into the spotlight, like a platform on the sledging hill overlooking the fjord.
The building is located near the ancestral site of Sermermiut. “The first stories told about Ilulissat date back to the arrival of the Danes in Sermermiut. People were very proud of where they lived because the fjord ice provided plenty of hunting opportunities.” There were 21 houses in total, home to around 100 people. “It’s not common in Greenland for 100 people to live together,” he explains. “When they welcomed the Danes, the people of Sermermiut were particularly proud to show them their way of life.”
Today, 5,200 people live in Ilulissat. Thirty percent fish or work in factories. Fifty small companies make their living from tourism. Around 60,000 people visit the town every year. “We’re going to take it to another level next year with the new airport,” he asserts, estimating that visitor numbers could be twenty times the number of inhabitants. “We’re getting ready to welcome the whole world, but we don’t want mass tourism. We know the results in Iceland. We need to find the magic formula so that visitors can enjoy nature and its silence.”
Palle Jerimiassen hopes that the tourism model currently being developed will be tailored more towards affluent visitors. “I visited some Swiss towns last year that are closed to mass tourism, and I’m still thinking about how we could take inspiration from them,” he says. A quick glance, then his gaze freezes, and an idea emerges: “We see possibilities, and people are investing.”
His only regret during his terms in office is that Palle Jerimiassen would have liked to see a university dedicated to climate change established in Ilulissat. The effects of climate change are a recurring theme in discussions at the hotel, the café, and the town hall. Everyone recalls their youth spent traveling by sled in April, gliding across the ice floes. “The Inughuit of the North are hunters, but they can no longer hunt because the ice is disappearing. It’s worrying. Before, we could go as far as Canada, but now we can see the end of the ice floe from the windows of Qaanaaq, and they can no longer take the main route.”
The university was not accepted by the government. However, foreign partners were interested in collaborating. Researchers from all over the world come to Ilulissat to study the ice. “Scientists need a place. There’s the ILLU Science and Art Center building, but we need to do something more. We need a place to talk and educate the younger generations.”
On the way out, we talk about Paul-Émile Victor’s hut. “Maybe France will find the money to restore it,” he says with a smile. His grandfather worked with the explorer. He tells us about a twinning project between towns, then, as if in an attempt to detach himself from the persona he has embodied for several terms, he adds: “But that’s for the next mayor,” before disappearing into the council office. C.L
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