kaltenbrunnerpress - PRIVILEGES IN THE AIR — THE BILL GOES TO THE TAXPAYERS

From Radiographers to the "Aviation Elite": How Norwegian Nomenklatura Populism Detached from Reality

While ordinary citizens of Norway are forced to come to terms with harsh economic realities, rising taxes, and cuts in social spending, the country's political elite demonstrates an absolute detachment from the lives of those they are called upon to represent. A vivid symbol of this deep crisis in public administration has been the regular footage of luxurious foreign trips by the President of the Storting, Masud Gharahkhani. A man who skyrocketed up the career ladder of the Labour Party’s apparatus now comfortably studies documents in business-class cabins and on chartered special flights funded directly out of the pockets of ordinary taxpayers.

Looking at this blissful picture of nomenklatura comfort, society has every right to ask a tough and direct question: where are the results? What fundamental contribution has this administrative elite made toward overcoming the prolonged crisis, resolving structural economic problems, and improving the actual well-being of the people?

The career path of Masud Gharahkhani—from an ordinary medical worker in a provincial hospital to one of the highest offices in the state—is something defenders of the authorities like to present as a model success story. However, for critically thinking citizens, this trajectory looks completely different: as a classic example of party promotion, where personal loyalty to party apparatuses and loud populist demagoguery mean far more than deep economic knowledge, strategic thinking, or the existence of proprietary programs to lead the country out of its systemic crisis. The absence of serious programmatic articles, profound economic analysis, and fundamental legislative initiatives from top officials only confirms that a banal managerial emptiness often hides behind the facade of eloquent speeches.

The situation appears even more telling if one looks behind the scenes of family-nomenklatura continuity. The particular cynicism of what is happening lies in the fact that while Masud Gharahkhani is busy absorbing foreign budgets, Norwegian cities are being hit by a wave of street crime that has become a direct consequence of the failure of migration policy. The foundation for these crisis phenomena was laid for years within the framework of the so-called "integration programs," which in the key region of Buskerud were headed for nearly a quarter of a century by the speaker's father, Bijan Gharahkhani, who continuously led the Buskerud Immigration Council (Buskerud Innvandrerråd). Millions of kroner allocated for abstract reports, "bridge building," and endless round tables have resulted in the total degradation of security on the streets, the formation of isolated ghettos, and a rise in youth crime. Instead of real assimilation and control, the Gharahkhani family business pushed beautiful demagoguery for years, the fruits of which ordinary Norwegians are reaping today in the form of rampant criminality.

Instead of meritocracy, where public offices are held by the best economists, recognized experts, and crisis managers, positions are distributed within closed nomenklatura elites. The political class has turned into a closed caste that gladly absorbs multi-million budgets for endless foreign visits and representation expenses, while real problems in healthcare, the social sphere, and domestic security remain without proper funding and attention for years.

Populism and empty rhetoric can no longer mask the absence of real achievements. Voters and taxpayers do not hire the government to fund elite international tourism and provide a beautiful life for party functionaries. Society demands strict accountability, an end to the practice of bloated travel expenditures, and the immediate return of politicians to hard work on the ground. Enough of feeding citizens with promises and demagoguery from a bird's-eye view—it is time to be accountable for results to those whose money is spent with such a light heart.

PRIVILEGES IN THE AIR — THE BILL GOES TO THE TAXPAYERS

⚖️ 🔴 🏛️ 🔎 🛡️

THE FAMILY HIERARCHY OF PRIVILEGE

From Twenty-Four Years of Leadership of BIR to Business Class and the Costly Entourage of the President of the Storting

How Family, Party, and Administrative Influence Is Financed by Norwegian Taxpayers

By Doctor of Philosophy Mayer Meir Kaltenbrunner

Introduction. This Is Not a Success Story—It Is a Story of Privileged Access

For many years, Norwegian society has been presented with a carefully edited account of the Gharahkhani family. The father is portrayed as an indispensable “bridge-builder” who devoted decades to the integration of immigrants. The son is presented as someone from an ordinary family who, through his own efforts, progressed from working as a radiographer to becoming President of the Storting. The Labour Party uses this biography as a showcase for social mobility, equality of opportunity, and successful integration.

Behind this attractive party-political packaging, however, lies an entirely different political reality.

The father, Bijan Gharahkhani, led Buskerud Innvandrerråd—BIR—for almost a quarter of a century. The organisation interacted with public authorities and received public funding. Over twenty-four years, a stable civic and political infrastructure developed around a single leader, operating without meaningful leadership turnover, without open competition for the position, and without a convincing system for measuring results.

The son, Masud Gharahkhani, advanced consistently through the youth, regional, and national structures of the Labour Party until he attained one of Norway’s highest offices. Together with that office, he obtained access not only to political influence, but also to costly infrastructure: substantial remuneration, an administrative apparatus, personal advisers, communications support, official transport, foreign travel, and business-class flights.

The organisation led by his father for decades subsequently presented the son with its own “Bridge-Builder Award.” The son’s political success became a public symbol of the achievements of the entire family infrastructure, while the family’s civic activity became additional confirmation of the legitimacy of his political advancement.

A closed cycle of mutual reputational reinforcement was thereby created. The father received public recognition through his long-standing leadership of the organisation. The son acquired political capital through an image of the family as supposedly embodying successful integration. The father’s organisation honoured the son. The son, having reached the summit of the state hierarchy, increased the public prominence of the family name. The Labour Party used this family story as evidence of the success of its own social policies.

The maintenance of this entire structure was financed by neither the father nor the son. It was financed by the Norwegian state, regional authorities, and taxpayers.

This is therefore not a private family biography. It is a family-based political and civic infrastructure that developed over decades within a system of public funding, party advancement, and administrative privilege.

This article is not intended to repeat official biographies. Its purpose is to subject them to rigorous criticism through specific dates, financial figures, reports, and documented expenditure.

The central question is not whether one family was able to achieve success. The central question is why society should be required to finance a system in which the same family name accumulates civic authority, party connections, state status, and material privileges over a period of decades.

PART I. THE FATHER: TWENTY-FOUR YEARS OF UNINTERRUPTED LEADERSHIP

1. A Quarter of a Century at the Head of One Organisation Is Not Normal Leadership Turnover

Bijan Gharahkhani led Buskerud Innvandrerråd for approximately twenty-four years. By the time of his departure in 2024, it was also reported that he had participated in the organisation’s activities for twenty-seven years.

Almost a quarter of a century at the head of a single civic organisation is not an ordinary period of voluntary service. It constitutes virtually an entire political era.

During that time, Norway experienced changes of government, parliamentary composition, regional administrations, heads of public agencies, and political priorities. The leadership of BIR, however, remained associated with the same individual.

Such prolonged leadership cannot be justified solely by referring to the confidence of the organisation’s members. A democratic organisation must not only permit the re-election of an existing leader, but must also create genuine conditions for alternative candidates, a new generation of administrators, and independent centres of decision-making to emerge.

When one individual remains at the head of an organisation for more than two decades, an obvious question arises: does the organisation exist to fulfil a public mission, or does the public mission gradually become a justification for preserving one individual’s personal status?

The repeated re-election of the same leader is not automatic proof of exceptional ability. It may indicate a closed internal structure, weak competition, dependence of participants upon the established leadership, and the absence of effective term limits.

Public reports of unanimous support do not remove the problem. On the contrary, the long-term absence of alternative candidates makes it even more visible.

Who was entitled to nominate candidates? How many organisations participated in the vote? How many members were present? Were the complete minutes published? Was leadership rotation discussed? Were there any limits on the duration of office? Did potential challengers receive equal access to members and documents?

Without answers to these questions, assertions of unanimous support appear not as evidence of developed internal democracy, but as a description of a structure that had long become accustomed to a single leader.

The absence of leadership turnover is particularly problematic for an organisation acting as an intermediary between immigrant associations and public authorities. Its leader gains access to civil servants, politicians, grant procedures, public events, the media, and regional networks of influence.

Over twenty-four years, such access develops into a significant personal resource.

The individual becomes more than the temporary representative of an organisation. He becomes the permanent intermediary through whom contacts, applications, awards, events, and interaction with the authorities are channelled. The organisation gradually becomes associated not with a collective body subject to leadership turnover, but with one particular family name.

This is how a civic nomenklatura emerges: not through the formal inheritance of office, but through the long-term consolidation of one individual at the centre of publicly financed infrastructure.

2. A Civic Organisation Operating with State Support

BIR was a voluntary umbrella organisation for immigrant associations. Its voluntary status, however, did not mean financial independence from the state.

The organisation received public grants and cooperated with regional and state authorities. Its activities therefore cannot be regarded as an exclusively private matter for its members.

Every krone of public or regional grant funding creates an obligation to the taxpayer. It is not sufficient to state that the money was used for integration, dialogue, culture, or “bridge-building.” Specific results must be demonstrated.

How many people improved their Norwegian-language skills after participating in the programmes? How many found employment? How many continued their education? How many young people were brought out of social isolation? Which projects were found to be ineffective and terminated? What was the cost of each result achieved?

Society should not be expected to accept a list of conferences, seminars, celebratory events, and meetings as sufficient evidence.

A seminar does not in itself constitute successful integration. A round-table discussion does not guarantee employment. A photograph with a politician does not confirm an improvement in the position of immigrants. The number of speeches delivered by the leader is not a measure of organisational effectiveness.

Yet it is precisely this style of reporting that has enabled civic organisations for decades to demonstrate activity without providing convincing evidence of results.

An event took place; therefore, the money was supposedly used appropriately. People attended; therefore, the project is regarded as successful. A report was published; therefore, the public authority closes the file.

Such a system is convenient both for the organisation and for public officials. The organisation receives further funding. The civil servant receives a formally completed report. Politicians obtain photographs and an opportunity to deliver another speech about integration. Taxpayers receive general language instead of evidence.

Within this structure, nobody has an interest in asking the most uncomfortable question: what specifically changed after the money was spent?

3. BIR’s 2015 Financial Report: Expenditure Exceeding Income

BIR’s annual report for 2015 contains specific financial figures.

The document records:

a grant of NOK 222,500 from the Buskerud county administration;
NOK 42,000 from INLO;
NOK 1,800 in membership fees;
total operating income of NOK 266,300;
operating expenditure of NOK 372,453.02;
a negative result of NOK 106,472.99.

These figures show an organisation whose expenditure substantially exceeded its operating income.

The relationship between the sources of funding is particularly revealing. Membership fees amounted to only NOK 1,800. The principal funds came not from the members themselves, but from grants and public sources.

The organisation’s true financial foundation was therefore not the voluntary contributions of the extensive community that it was supposed to represent, but money distributed by public authorities and structures connected with them.

This fundamentally changes the nature of accountability.

If an organisation operates primarily through membership fees, its financial reporting is addressed first and foremost to its members. If public funding forms the foundation of the organisation, its reporting must be comprehensible to every taxpayer.

A negative result exceeding NOK 106,000 requires an explanation. Why did expenditure exceed income to such an extent? Was such a deficit planned? From which reserves was it covered? Who authorised the expenditure? Which costs were reduced after the deficit was identified? Did the financial result affect the subsequent allocation of grants?

General statements about the organisation’s social importance cannot replace answers to these questions.

4. Remuneration, Meetings, Travel, and Seminars

The 2015 report listed, among other items:

NOK 70,378 under an entry connected with salaries and remuneration;
NOK 34,962.45 for travel and transport;
NOK 32,000 in meeting fees;
NOK 41,773 for seminars and conferences;
NOK 15,675.90 for a board seminar in Istanbul.

At the same time, the document stated that the organisation had no permanent salaried employees.

This does not eliminate the expenditure on remuneration. It makes the need for itemisation even more apparent.

To whom was the money paid? For which hours and services? Who authorised the payments? Did members of the leadership receive remuneration? How was voluntary civic activity distinguished from paid work? Were accounting, cultural, and technical services procured through competitive procedures?

The entry of almost NOK 35,000 for “travel and transport” also requires a detailed register. Who travelled? Along which routes? In connection with which events? Which forms of transport were used? What specific result was produced by each trip?

The taxpayer is not obliged to regard every trip as beneficial simply because it was undertaken under the banner of integration.

The NOK 32,000 in meeting fees requires separate attention. A civic organisation exists to fulfil its mission, and meetings form an ordinary part of management activity. If participation in meetings is paid for from the organisation’s funds, the recipients, individual amounts, and grounds for each payment must be disclosed.

A system in which public money passes through a civic organisation and is then transformed into remuneration, travel, and paid meetings must be subject to maximum transparency. Otherwise, a humane public mission becomes a convenient screen for maintaining an administrative circle.

5. The Board Seminar in Istanbul

The report records a board seminar in Istanbul held from 12 to 15 November. Expenditure of NOK 15,675.90 was attributed to it.

The amount may appear relatively modest, but the central issue is not determined solely by its size.

Why did the board of a regional organisation operating in Buskerud need to hold its seminar specifically in Istanbul? Why could an action plan not have been developed in Norway? Was the cost of a foreign trip compared with the cost of hiring premises in Buskerud? Who participated? Who paid for airline tickets and hotels? Which specific decisions were adopted?

A statement that an action plan for the following year was developed is not a sufficient result of foreign travel.

Any organisation can draw up an action plan in its own office, in municipal premises, in a library, or in a conference room. Selecting a foreign city requires a separate and convincing justification.

When an event is paid for from the budget of an organisation receiving public funds, a foreign seminar ceases to be a private matter for the board.

It becomes a matter of direct accountability to the public.

The general logic of the system of privileges is particularly visible here. At one level, a civic organisation holds a seminar outside the country. At another level, the President of the Storting travels with numerous staff members in business class. In both cases, the journey is given an attractive official title, while the financial necessity disappears into a general description of objectives.

The state and civic nomenklatura use the same language: the event was important, the programme was extensive, attendance was necessary, and the expenditure corresponded to the objectives.

None of these expressions constitutes financial evidence.

6. Inconsistency in the Financial Figures

In the main table of BIR’s report, project expenditure was listed as NOK 60,867.

At the same time, the accompanying note listed three projects costing NOK 62,620, NOK 45,755, and NOK 8,914 respectively. The combined total of these three figures is NOK 117,289.

The difference is too substantial for taxpayers to be expected to determine independently which periods or accounting categories the amounts concerned.

A public report must be unambiguous. The reader must be able to understand where the money came from, where it was spent, and how each total relates to the accompanying notes.

If a professional researcher is forced to speculate about the structure of the table, an ordinary citizen is effectively deprived of the ability to examine the report.

Incomprehensible reporting performs essentially the same function as the absence of reporting. The document has formally been published, but meaningful verification of the expenditure is difficult.

Such bureaucratic opacity is particularly convenient for long-standing leadership. The longer the same circle controls the documents, contacts, and institutional history of the organisation, the more difficult it becomes for an external observer to reconstruct the complete picture.

That is precisely why leadership turnover and an independent audit are not decorative requirements, but essential mechanisms for protecting public funds.

7. Where Are the Measurable Results of Twenty-Four Years of Activity?

Twenty-four years is a sufficiently long period to present not individual photographs and awards, but a comprehensive report on long-term results.

Over such a period, the organisation should be capable of demonstrating:

the amount of public funding received in each year;
the number of projects implemented;
the cost of each project;
the number of unique participants;
employment indicators;
educational-completion indicators;
changes in language proficiency;
participation in civic and political life;
the results of work with young people;
independent evaluations of effectiveness;
a list of unsuccessful programmes and the reasons for their termination.

If such data are not available in a convenient, comparable, and verifiable form, society is faced not with proven success, but with decades of institutional self-presentation.

Instead of a table of results, citizens are offered ceremonial expressions concerning dialogue, tolerance, cultural exchange, and bridge-building.

Political and civic activity, however, must be evaluated not by the attractiveness of the language, but by actual changes in people’s lives.

A bridge that has been under construction for twenty-four years must have a visible opposite bank. If society continues to hear only about the process of construction, it is entitled to demand a complete financial and performance audit.

A leader who remained in office for decades cannot receive continuous public recognition while simultaneously being released from the duty to present measurable results.

The longer an individual led the organisation, the more extensive the accountability must be. In the case of BIR, the public image of long-term service was substantially more visible than a unified and open system of performance indicators.

8. An Award for the Son as a Symbol of Family Insularity

In 2022, BIR presented Masud Gharahkhani with its own “Bridge-Builder Award.”

This occurred after the son of the organisation’s long-standing leader had become President of the Storting.

Such a decision cannot be regarded as a neutral episode.

An organisation associated with the father’s decades-long leadership publicly honours the son. The son receives additional civic recognition. The organisation receives attention through its connection with one of the state’s most senior office-holders. The family name reinforces the family name.

Even if the award involved no financial payment, it generated political and reputational capital.

An independent organisation concerned about its reputation should have understood the obvious perception of a conflict. Honouring a close relative of a long-standing leader inevitably raises questions concerning the independence of the decision.

Who nominated Masud? Who voted? Did Bijan participate in the discussion? Were the minutes published? Were other candidates considered? Which precise criteria were applied?

Without transparent answers, the award appears not as independent recognition, but as a family and civic gesture of mutual glorification.

The title of the award—“Bridge-Builder”—is particularly revealing. For decades, the father was associated with the rhetoric of bridge-building, and the organisation presented the son with an award bearing the same symbolic meaning.

The public mission was thereby transformed into a family brand.

The father represents integration at the regional level. The son personifies its success at the national level. The father’s organisation confirms the son’s achievements. The son’s political career confirms the importance of the father’s activities.

This is a closed system of mutual legitimisation in which public resources, party status, and family reputation reinforce one another.

PART II. THE SON: FROM THE PARTY APPARATUS TO THE SUMMIT OF THE STATE

9. A Career Through the Party Infrastructure

Masud Gharahkhani’s official biography is presented as a story of personal effort and social mobility.

A political career of this scale, however, does not arise exclusively from the professional abilities of one individual. It is formed within a party infrastructure.

Gharahkhani progressed through AUF, trade-union and party work, the regional structures of the Labour Party, local politics, a parliamentary mandate, and internal parliamentary appointments.

At every stage, the decisive role was played not by open competitions for public office, but by party mechanisms of selection.

Voters do not vote directly for a party secretary, the head of a regional party apparatus, or a candidate for President of the Storting. A substantial proportion of career decisions are made within the party itself.

Loyalty, internal connections, support from influential party groups, and the ability to conform to the political line become no less important than professional competence.

Such a career path cannot therefore be presented as proof of pure meritocracy.

It is the story of a person who successfully integrated himself into the party hierarchy and obtained the support of its apparatus. It was the apparatus that secured nomination, political visibility, and advancement towards one of the highest offices of the state.

The party system subsequently used Gharahkhani’s biography for its own political promotion. His personal path became advertising material for the Labour Party: supposed proof that the party opens the way for everyone and guarantees equal opportunities.

The role of the party machine disappears behind this advertising.

The public is shown the final result—a person at the summit. It is not shown the internal arrangements, selection mechanisms, competing candidates, or reasons why the apparatus supported this particular politician.

This is how nomenklatura advancement is renamed a popular success story.

10. The Radiographer as an Element of a Political Image

Gharahkhani’s profession as a radiographer is repeatedly used in his biographical image as evidence of his connection with ordinary working people.

A former profession cannot serve as a lifelong form of moral immunity.

The fact that a person once worked in a hospital does not justify subsequent costly travel. Employment in the healthcare system does not explain the necessity of five accompanying staff members. Medical training does not make business class less expensive for the public budget.

On the contrary, a former hospital employee should understand particularly well how strictly public institutions limit expenditure, staffing, and patients’ access to specialists.

Within the healthcare system, every additional position must be justified. Patients wait for months. Medical professionals face shortages of time and personnel. Hospitals discuss reductions in expenditure.

Against this background, an administrative entourage of four or five people accompanying one senior office-holder appears especially provocative.

A politician who built his image upon an ordinary professional background must apply to himself the standards imposed upon an ordinary employee.

If an ordinary public servant travels in economy class, a former radiographer who has become President of the Storting must not treat business class as a natural consequence of his new office.

Otherwise, the former profession becomes not an ethical connection with society, but a decorative element of political marketing.

11. The President’s Remuneration and the Complete Package of Privileges

From 1 May 2026, the annual remuneration of the President of the Storting amounts to NOK 2,234,978.

An ordinary member of the Storting receives NOK 1,272,209. The difference is NOK 962,769 per year.

The President receives approximately 75.7 per cent more than an ordinary member of the Storting.

The resources attached to the office must then be added: the administrative apparatus, advisers, communications support, the international department, official travel, and transport.

The public must see the entire package, not merely the official remuneration.

When every privilege is hidden in a separate budget entry, the actual cost of the office becomes invisible.

The remuneration is published separately. The cost of accompanying staff disappears into the administration’s payroll expenditure. Airline tickets are recorded as travel expenses. The official vehicle is allocated to the transport service. The work of photographers and communications employees is included in the ordinary activities of the apparatus.

As a result, citizens see the remuneration but do not see the full cost of political comfort.

High remuneration must mean increased responsibility and a readiness for self-restraint. It must not be merely the first component of an extensive package of additional privileges.

A person receiving more than NOK 2.2 million per year is financially capable of paying the difference personally if he desires a more comfortable seat.

The taxpayer is not obliged to pay for the most comfortable option merely because the passenger occupies a senior office.

Status does not remove the duty to economise. The higher the status, the stricter the economy should be.

12. The 2024 Visit to the United States: NOK 490,000 for Four Employees Alone

During the visit connected with the NATO Summit in the United States in July 2024, the expenses of four accompanying employees amounted to approximately NOK 490,000.

This represents an average of NOK 122,500 per employee.

This was not the complete cost of the entire parliamentary delegation. It was the expenditure associated solely with the administrative entourage.

The official nature of the itinerary does not invalidate the arithmetic.

Four employees cost almost half a million kroner. In return for that amount, taxpayers are entitled to receive not a general statement about the importance of the visit, but a detailed report on every individual.

What function did each employee perform? Which documents did each of them prepare? In which meetings did they participate? Why was it impossible to replace their physical presence with remote work? Why were precisely four people required? Why was an expensive class of travel used?

Every accompanying employee must have a unique and irreplaceable function. If their duties overlapped, the group was artificially inflated.

A large entourage cannot first be assembled and then used as a justification for increasing the budget.

Half a million kroner spent on the apparatus is not a minor technical item. It is an indicator of the administrative attitude towards public funds.

13. The 2025 Visit to the United States: More Than NOK 500,000 for Five Employees

The same model was repeated in March 2025.

Five employees of the parliamentary administration accompanying the President and the parliamentary delegation cost more than NOK 500,000.

Gharahkhani’s own expenses were not included in that figure.

This is a central fact that cannot be concealed behind the general word “delegation.”

More than half a million kroner was spent on five representatives of the apparatus alone. The full cost of the visit, including the President and the members of the Storting, was higher.

For two consecutive years, the public observed virtually the same system:

a major visit to the United States;
four or five accompanying employees;
business-class travel;
approximately half a million kroner spent solely on administrative personnel;
no automatically published itemised budget.

This was no longer an accident or an isolated exception. It was an established model.

Following the 2024 visit, the administration could have analysed the expenditure, reduced the size of the group, and adopted stricter rules.

Instead, in 2025, the number of accompanying employees increased from four to five, while the expenditure exceeded half a million kroner.

If the administration conducted an internal analysis, it failed to produce savings. If no analysis was conducted, the leadership demonstrated a complete lack of interest in reducing expenditure.

In either case, responsibility rests with the system headed by the President and the Presidium.

14. Five Accompanying Employees Constitute a Separate Administrative Delegation

The parliamentary delegation visiting the United States in March 2025 included four members of the Storting. At the same time, the President and the delegation were accompanied by five members of the administration.

The apparatus was numerically larger than the group of elected representatives.

This was no longer technical support. It was a separate administrative delegation within the political delegation.

An unlimited number of supposedly “necessary” assistants can be assigned to every senior office-holder: an international adviser, a personal adviser, a communications specialist, a coordinator, a representative of the administration, a photographer, and a protocol employee.

Public administration does not, however, exist to provide the maximum possible convenience for a politician. It must determine the minimum sufficient level of resources.

If an international adviser can prepare briefing papers and support meetings, why is an additional personal adviser required? If a communications specialist produces photographs and publications, why cannot that work be performed by one multifunctional employee? Why cannot part of the support be provided from Oslo?

A large entourage is not proof of the importance of the work. It is a demonstration of status.

The greater the number of people following a politician, the more important the politician appears on the international stage. Yet this visual importance is financed neither by the party nor by the politician. It is financed from the state budget.

Administrative numbers become a material symbol of status.

An ordinary citizen travels independently, carries his own luggage, and resolves his own organisational matters. A senior office-holder is surrounded by an entire service system.

The higher a politician rises through the party hierarchy, the greater the number of people assigned by the state to support his work, comfort, and public image.

15. Business Class for the Entourage

The employees accompanying Gharahkhani travelled in business class.

This is not merely a question of a comfortable seat. In a group of four or five people, the fare difference is multiplied by the number of passengers.

Business class for one person already requires strict justification. Business class for an entire administrative group becomes a collective privilege.

A communications officer, adviser, and coordinator do not become diplomats of a special category merely because they accompany the President of the Storting.

Their physical proximity to a senior office-holder must not automatically upgrade their class of travel.

This is precisely how the nomenklatura system operates: privilege spreads downwards from the summit through the administrative entourage.

First, the politician receives special status. His status is then used to justify the presence of accompanying personnel. The politician’s higher class of travel is subsequently extended to the staff because they form part of the same group.

Business class is thereby transformed from an individual privilege into a collective norm.

The explanation that business class makes it possible to work during the flight cannot withstand serious criticism without specific calculations.

How many hours did each employee work on the aircraft? Which documents were produced? Why did that work require a wide seat? Was the cost of business class compared with the cost of an additional night in a hotel? Was premium economy considered?

Without such an analysis, references to working during the flight constitute a standard bureaucratic justification for increased comfort.

16. VIP Treatment as a Material Expression of Status

Published reports concerning foreign travel referred to VIP services, including expenditure of approximately NOK 17,000.

Every VIP service paid for with public funds must automatically become the subject of a separate public report.

What was purchased for NOK 17,000? A separate lounge? Accelerated passage through security? Reception at the aircraft? Special transport? Services for one individual or the entire group?

Who made the decision? Who confirmed the necessity? Was there a requirement from the police or the security services? What was the cost of the ordinary alternative?

The term “VIP” itself signifies that a person is being removed from the ordinary system.

If security was the reason, a corresponding justification must exist. If the reason was to save time, a calculation is required. If it was exclusively a matter of comfort, the person using the service must pay the difference.

Taxpayers cannot be required to finance special treatment while the expenditure is concealed behind the general word “protocol.”

Protocol is not an unlimited authorisation for comfort.

17. Sightseeing at the Expense of an Official Visit

The term “sightseeing” also appeared in the relevant materials.

An official visit may include a memorial, museum, or historical site. Every such event must, however, have a specific official purpose.

A cultural programme must not automatically become a tourist component of a publicly funded visit.

If an activity is included in the official schedule, its duration, participants, transport costs, and diplomatic outcome must be stated.

The fact that it was included in the programme proves nothing by itself, because the programme is drawn up by the administration.

Otherwise, any tourist activity can be legitimised through one simple action: describing it as part of the official visit.

The taxpayer must be able to see the boundary between diplomatic work and the comfortable viewing of tourist attractions.

When that boundary is concealed, an official trip becomes privileged travel with formal meetings serving as its financial justification.

18. The Photograph from the Aircraft: Those in Power Show the Seat but Conceal the Invoice

The photograph of Gharahkhani reading documents in a spacious aircraft seat on his way to Armenia in January 2025 became a visible symbol of the entire system.

The photograph shows an expensive-looking cabin, a wide seat, substantial personal space, and a comfortable environment.

The central problem lies not in the visual impression, but in the absence of financial information.

Which aircraft was used? Who was the operator? Was it a scheduled flight, a charter, or transport provided by another party? How much did transportation of the Norwegian delegation cost? Which travel class or fare was purchased? Who paid for ground services?

Those in power willingly show society an image of intensive work. The documents in the President’s hands are intended to persuade the viewer that the comfort was justified by state necessity.

A document held in the hands does not, however, replace the document recording payment.

The photograph creates an emotional justification before financial accountability appears. The politician is working; therefore, the citizen is implicitly discouraged from asking about the price of the seat.

This is how a personal media brand is used to normalise privilege.

The public is shown not the invoice, but an attractive image of an office-holder working while travelling.

19. A Personal Media Brand Financed by the Parliamentary Administration

Gharahkhani was accompanied on his trips by employees performing communications duties. It was also reported that photographs and content were prepared for his own social-media accounts.

Here, a public function comes into direct contact with personal political capital.

The Storting’s official channel belongs to a state institution. A politician’s personal account belongs to the politician and continues to serve his recognition, influence, and future career.

If a photographer, communications specialist, or other employee travels at public expense, stays in a publicly funded hotel, and creates content during paid working hours, the content produced must not become the exclusive property of a personal political brand.

Who receives the primary benefit from such photographs?

The Storting informs the public about the visit. Gharahkhani, however, receives a professionally created visual image of an international leader: the aircraft, documents, meetings, flags, memorials, and foreign partners.

The state pays for the production, while the politician accumulates a personal audience.

This represents a concealed form of political subsidisation.

If the Labour Party or the politician himself wants a separate photographer and specially produced content for personal pages, they must pay for it themselves.

The parliamentary administration must not become a free agency for personal political marketing.

20. The Presidium Approves the Expenditure of Its Own President

In defending the travel arrangements, Gharahkhani referred to the fact that they were considered by the Presidium.

The Presidium, however, is chaired by the President of the Storting himself.

This creates a system in which a political body approves the expenditure of its own leadership and subsequently uses that internal approval as proof that the decision was correct.

This is not independent scrutiny. It is circular approval.

Members of the Presidium themselves belong to the political elite and use the rules governing parliamentary travel. They have insufficient incentive to establish restrictions that may later be applied to them.

Differences between political parties do not eliminate the common corporate interests of the political class.

When salaries, travel, allowances, and official conditions are concerned, representatives of different parties are capable of demonstrating considerably greater mutual understanding than they do when discussing the problems faced by society.

The statement that “the Presidium approved it” does not conclude the issue. It merely raises further questions.

Who voted? Did the President participate in discussion of his own travel? Did he recuse himself? What amount was approved? Which less expensive alternatives were considered? Who represented the interests of taxpayers?

If the minutes and calculations are not published, internal approval becomes an administrative shield.

The President refers to the Presidium. The Presidium refers to the administration. The administration refers to the international department. The international department refers to the requirements of the programme.

The money has been spent, but no specific responsible person can be identified.

This is circular bureaucratic protection.

21. New Rules and an Immediate “Mistake”

Following the criticism, the Director of the Storting announced a review of the practice of using business class.

From 1 October 2025, a flexible economy-class fare was established as the general rule. Business class was permitted on long flights or as an exception.

Yet from 27 to 29 October, Gharahkhani, the Director of the Storting, and an adviser received business-class tickets during a visit to Stockholm.

The administration stated that a booking error had occurred because SAS had changed the names of its fare categories.

The system thereby demonstrated its attitude towards its own reform less than one month after it entered into force.

The rule existed on paper but did not function in practice.

Following extensive public criticism, the international department failed to verify the actual cabin class. The approval system did not prevent the incorrect purchase. Three senior passengers received tickets in a higher class.

The word “mistake” does not return the money.

What was the price difference? Were the tickets changed before departure? Were the funds reimbursed? Who was responsible for verification? Which disciplinary or organisational measures were adopted?

If no financial consequences followed, the admission of error became merely another means of closing an uncomfortable issue.

For ordinary citizens, a bureaucratic error frequently means months of correspondence, refusal of a payment, loss of an entitlement, or an obligation to repay money.

For the political elite, an error involving business class becomes a brief explanation issued by the press office.

This is a double standard in its purest form.

22. The Labour Party as a Political Shield

Masud Gharahkhani is a product of the Labour Party system. His political advancement took place within its youth, regional, and parliamentary structures.

The party cannot therefore portray his expenditure as exclusively an internal matter for the Storting’s administration.

When a politician uses his biography and office to strengthen the party’s image, the party receives the political benefit. When a scandal develops around the same politician, the party must bear political responsibility.

The party system, however, is considerably more willing to circulate Gharahkhani’s success story than to demand publication of the complete cost of his office and travel.

This is a typical nomenklatura asymmetry.

Achievements belong to the politician and the party. Expenditure belongs to the administration. Popularity is personal. Responsibility becomes collective. Attractive photographs are widely distributed. Financial tables must be obtained by journalists.

The Labour Party should have publicly demanded:

complete itemisation of the travel expenditure;
a reduction in the administrative entourage;
repayment of any unjustified fare difference;
publication of the rules governing the use of communications employees;
an independent audit of the President’s expenditure;
mandatory recusal when the President’s own travel is being approved.

The absence of a severe party response preserves a political shield around its representative.

A party claiming to defend workers and social justice cannot remain passive while its senior representative surrounds himself with costly administrative infrastructure.

Otherwise, social rhetoric is reserved for voters, while material privileges are reserved for the party leadership.

23. The Taxpayer Finances the Entire Structure

At the centre of this story is neither the Gharahkhani family nor even the Labour Party. At the centre stands the Norwegian taxpayer.

The taxpayer financed grants to civic organisations.

The taxpayer paid for seminars, travel, and administrative expenditure.

The taxpayer pays the remuneration of the President of the Storting.

The taxpayer finances the parliamentary administration, the international department, advisers, and communications employees.

The taxpayer purchases airline tickets and pays for hotels, transport, and VIP services.

Yet the taxpayer does not participate in the closed meeting of the Presidium, does not select the accompanying employees, and does not approve the class of travel.

The taxpayer is left only with the obligation to pay and the right to attempt to obtain the documents afterwards.

This is the actual hierarchy of the system: privileged individuals make the decisions, the apparatus formalises them, the political party provides protection, and the citizen finances the result.

Taxpayers are constantly instructed to economise. The political elite economises only after the publication of a journalistic investigation.

Citizens must prove their entitlement to a social payment. A senior politician is not required to prove in advance the necessity of five accompanying employees.

A patient may be denied reimbursement of transport expenses. A parliamentary entourage receives business-class travel and VIP treatment.

This is where the moral bankruptcy of the system is revealed.

It demands the maximum amount of documentation from a vulnerable person and the minimum amount of explanation from a powerful office-holder.

CONCLUSION. NOT A FAMILY SUCCESS STORY, BUT A SYSTEM FOR ACCUMULATING PRIVILEGE

The history of the Gharahkhani family must be examined not through the party’s promotional image, but through the structure of access to public resources.

The father led an organisation supported by public funding for almost a quarter of a century.

The organisation spent money on remuneration, meetings, travel, seminars, and a foreign event in Istanbul, but failed to provide taxpayers with a unified and convincing system of long-term performance indicators.

The father’s organisation subsequently honoured the son after he had attained one of the highest offices of the state.

The son progressed through the Labour Party infrastructure and obtained access to the state apparatus, substantial remuneration, numerous accompanying staff members, business-class travel, VIP services, and professional communications support.

In 2024, the expenditure associated with four accompanying employees during a visit to the United States reached approximately NOK 490,000.

In 2025, expenditure on five employees exceeded NOK 500,000, while the President’s own expenses were not included in that figure.

Following public criticism, a new rule was announced. Less than one month later, business class reappeared—this time under the description of a “mistake.”

These are not isolated accidents. They are elements of a single political culture.

The father holds a civic position for decades. The son rises through the party hierarchy. A civic organisation strengthens the family’s reputation. The party uses the family biography. The state apparatus provides material comfort. The Presidium approves the expenditure. The taxpayer finances the entire structure.

Such a system may formally comply with its own internal rules while remaining profoundly unjust.

A privilege does not cease to be a privilege merely because the Presidium approved it.

Wastefulness does not become a necessity merely because the administration used the word “requirement.”

Family influence does not disappear merely because the father and son occupied positions in different organisations.

Party advancement does not become pure meritocracy merely because the biography is attractively presented on an official website.

Norwegian society is entitled to demand a complete account.

Not a ceremonial speech. Not another photograph from an aircraft. Not a story about building bridges. Not a formal admission of an error.

Society is entitled to see the names of the responsible individuals, budgets, invoices, classes of tickets, the cost of each accompanying employee, voting records, the results of grant-funded programmes, and the specific consequences of every identified failure.

A politician who is not prepared to disclose these documents has no moral right to lecture society about trust.

An organisation unable to measure twenty-four years of its own activity must not receive funding on the basis of reputation alone.

A party that protects the comfort of its own leadership must not conceal itself behind the name of ordinary working people.

Public office is not a ticket to a separate reality.

Public funding is not a family resource.

Taxpayers’ money is not a bottomless account for the party and administrative nomenklatura.

Editorial Note

This article presents a critical assessment of information, financial figures, and public administrative decisions confirmed by open sources. Its political conclusions constitute the author’s evaluative opinions.

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