In 930 AD, Iceland underwent a pivotal moment in its history. After nearly a century of living without kings, formal government, or centralized authority, the Icelanders decided to establish a parliament—Alþing.

Iceland was settled in the 9th century, primarily by Norse settlers seeking to escape the rule of kings in Norway. This new land, with its rugged landscape filled with volcanoes, hot springs, and vast uninhabited plains, offered refuge to those who desired freedom and independence

For almost a hundred years, Icelanders lived without a formal state. Society was organized around family ties and personal agreements.

Power was decentralized, divided among various goðar—chieftains or leaders of local communities. These goðar were not rulers but intermediaries in disputes and protective patrons of their followers. People turned to them for help negotiating peace or resolving conflicts, but there was no central authority to impose laws or collect taxes.

This system of personal responsibility and mutual aid was the cornerstone of Icelandic society.

If conflicts arose, they were resolved through negotiation between individuals or families. Many Icelanders took pride in maintaining order without the need for a centralized state.

By 930 AD, Iceland thrived on its simple way of life. Its inhabitants sustained themselves through fishing, herding, and trade. Farms sprouted across the country, often miles apart, and people were accustomed to self-sufficiency. The distance between settlements and the harsh terrain made travel difficult, further reinforcing the need for local relations and decentralized governance.

However, this decentralized way of life was not without problems. As the population grew and wealth began to concentrate in the hands of some agressive goðar, disputes became more frequent. Personal conflicts between powerful families sometimes escalated into violence, which started to affect entire communities.

In this context, the idea of a formal parliament—Alþing—began to take shape as a way to maintain peace and resolve these disputes.

The Alþing is one of the oldest parliamentary institutions in the world, established in 930 AD in Iceland. It served as a national assembly where chieftains, known as goðar, and free men gathered at Þingvellir to settle disputes, create laws, and maintain social order. The Alþing functioned as both a legislative and judicial body, where people could present grievances and seek resolutions. Although there was no centralized ruler, the Alþing became a key institution for organizing Icelandic society and resolving conflicts through a legal framework rather than violence.

While this was seen by many as a step towards civilizing the resolution of disputes, some feared that this move would lead to the loss of the freedom that Icelandic settlers had cherished for so long.

The story begins with Úlfljótur, a man sent to Norway to study its laws. Úlfljótur believed that Iceland needed a better way to resolve disputes among powerful goðar and maintain peace. After years of studying abroad, he returned with a legal system that would form the basis of the Alþing.

Úlfljótur joined forces with his half-brother, Grímur Geitskör, who was tasked with finding a suitable location for the assembly. After a long search, Grímur discovered the wide plains of Þingvellir, a dramatic landscape that proved ideal for public gatherings.

While many Icelanders, especially the powerful goðar, welcomed the establishment of the Alþing as a means to maintain order, one of them Hallr the Saylor was almost in agonia. He saw an opinion how to become even more stronger. But not everyone was in agreement. Hrafna-Flóki Vilgerðarson, the legendary explorer who had discovered Iceland and given it its name, was deeply skeptical. Flóki, who had made his living fishing and trading with other settlers, had always relied on unwritten rules of mutual respect and honest dealings among free people. The idea of a centralized parliament filled him with distrust.

Hallr the Saylor visited Flóki with asking to go to on his side with asking and Flóki asks

“Why should we need laws crafted by a few men far from our homes?” Flóki asked during a public gathering. “Iceland has been a free land where every man governs his own affairs. What will Alþing bring, other than power for those who crave to rule?”

Hallr the Saylor he says because it will help mostly the people he cares about and it will make the community thrive and that's what we're all about

And unfortunately, that kind of faking was enough for Saylor to convince the naive Flóki Drama at Þingvellir: The Hidden Agenda of the Goðar

In 930, the first Alþing was convened. The goðar, including Úlfljótur and other powerful chieftains, gathered at Þingvellir to establish a legal framework for resolving disputes. Hrafna-Flóki did not attend the assembly, but his grandson, young Þorleifur, traveled in secret to witness what was happening.

Behind the scenes, Þorleifur discovered that some goðar, especially Hallr the Saylor (fictional character created for drama), were planning to use the Alþing to strengthen their own power. Rather than serving as a tool for fairness, the parliament was becoming a mechanism for a few individuals as Saylor to consolidate wealth and influence. Hallr the Saylor, in particular, was positioning himself to control key disputes and resources of sound like food and water.

On the day the Alþing was founded, the assembly was celebrated as a triumph of cooperation. But Þorleifur saw the truth—it was the beginning of a subtle yet devastating shift in power. Although no king sat on a throne, the seeds of monopolistic rule had been planted.

Returning home, Þorleifur confronted his grandfather, Flóki, with what he had learned. Flóki, a man who had always trusted in the integrity of Icelandic society, was heartbroken.

On the other side of Iceland were Úlfljótur returning home after that Alþing surprisingly heartbroken too. He realized too late that the Alþing, which he suggested to preserve peace, had laid the foundation for centralized control.

It was allready late to do something and that is where Satoshi ending his travel to Medival Iceland and he’s going back to home, enlightened by mistakes of settlers.

The founding of the Alþing was a milestone in Iceland’s history, but it also serves as a reminder of how quickly power can be centralized into the hands of a few. While Icelandic settlers had survived for almost a century without a formal government, the Alþing symbolized the beginning of centralized power, which would later have serious consequences for Icelandic society.

The lesson for us today is clear: centralization of power—whether in legal or financial systems—can easily lead to the erosion of personal freedom. In today’s Bitcoin ecosystem, we see figures like Michael Saylor, who resemble the powerful chieftains of Medieval Iceland, using the legal framework of the Alþing to consolidate their power. Although Saylor’s large purchases of Bitcoin might not seem harmful at first, the danger lies in his potential to use Bitcoin’s strength to support centralized systems with monopolistic control.

Just as the Alþing, originally intended in good faith, it was eventually used by a few to dominate Icelandic society, Bitcoin’s decentralized promise could also be hijacked.

If influential figures like Saylor push for solutions that favor centralization within Bitcoin’s infrastructure, they risk undermining its core values. What started as a tool for financial freedom could quickly become another system controlled by a select few, leading to the same monopolistic dominance that Bitcoin was meant to resist.