© 2026. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

The Assembly Line of "Star" Populists

Nepotism Under the Facade of Integration

Political Stars Bereft of Competence

The New Caste of Untouchables in Contemporary Norway

THE HIGHER YOU FLY, THE LOWER YOU WILL FALL

It is not a person’s origins that demean them, but the arrogance that emerges after a rapid rise. The expression “from rags to riches” must not be used to insult poverty, humble origins, or a life path travelled honestly. On the contrary, a person who has succeeded through work, ability, and perseverance deserves respect. Respect ends, however, when someone who emerged from an ordinary social environment begins to feel ashamed of their own past, despise the people among whom they grew up, and present their new position as proof of natural superiority. A senior position, an expensive office, state protection, an official vehicle, and ceremonial forms of address do not transform a person into a member of some superior breed. If, after rising to prominence, that person begins to look down upon others, forgets earlier promises, and refuses to recognise those whose support they once relied upon, the problem lies not in their origins, but in their moral degeneration. Poverty does not disgrace a person, but ingratitude, vanity, and contempt for one’s own roots reveal an inner poverty that cannot be concealed by titles, awards, or official ceremonies.

“The higher you fly, the lower you will fall” is not a wish for an accomplished person to fail, nor is it an envious prediction of inevitable defeat. It is a severe warning against self-confidence without restraint, vanity, and the loss of a sense of proportion. The higher a person climbs on the political, governmental, or social ladder, the more people become dependent upon their decisions and the more serious the consequences of every mistake. At such a height, inexperience, chance, or poor advisers can no longer serve as excuses: high office entails a high degree of personal responsibility. Yet power itself frequently creates the dangerous illusion of impunity. A person begins to imagine that they have risen solely because of their own greatness, even though their ascent was made possible by public trust, state institutions, political party support, the work of subordinates, and the votes of the electorate. They forget that the height upon which they stand does not belong to them personally. The more insistently they appropriate collective achievements, the more loudly they proclaim their own exceptional nature, and the more stubbornly they refuse to acknowledge mistakes, the less stable their position becomes. A lofty ascent unsupported by modesty, competence, and responsibility becomes preparation for an especially severe fall.

No matter how high a person may fly, they do not acquire the right to detach themselves from society. A politician or public official who ceases to listen to ordinary people gradually loses contact with reality. Advisers, political allies, assistants, journalists, and organisers of ceremonial events may continue to surround that person, but if they say only what the official wishes to hear, this entourage becomes not a source of information, but a wall separating the official from the real world. Flattering publications, prearranged applause, honorary titles, and carefully selected meetings create an artificial image of universal admiration, behind which public frustration, distrust, and accumulated questions may be concealed. Detachment from society begins not when a person physically withdraws from streets and public squares, but when that person ceases to recognise criticism as a legitimate right of citizens. At that moment, those who disagree are declared enemies, uncomfortable questions are dismissed as provocations, and demands for accountability are treated as personal insults. This is precisely where the fall begins, even though the politician may outwardly remain at the summit, continue receiving awards, and appear before television cameras. The fall first occurs internally: self-criticism, sound judgement, and the ability to distinguish respect from flattery disappear. Only later does this internal deterioration become visible to the public.

A position of authority is not granted forever, because governmental power is not the personal property of any individual. It is not transferred into lifelong possession, it does not become part of a family estate, and it does not transform the temporary bearer of public authority into the owner of the state. Every public office constitutes a mandate limited by law, entrusted by society, and subject to termination. A politician must remember that the office, title, and state resources belonged to others before them and will be transferred to others after them. When a public official begins to behave as though the machinery of the state were created to protect their reputation, promote relatives, suppress criticism, or preserve personal influence, that person ceases to serve society and becomes a consumer of power. The belief in one’s own indispensability is especially dangerous. An indispensable politician is almost always a politician who has ceased to trust institutions and has decided to place their own name above the law. A state dependent upon one person is a weak state, while a person convinced of their eternal right to govern has already lost all understanding of democratic responsibility. Terms of office expire, public attitudes change, allies disappear, but documents and official decisions remain. It then becomes clear that a temporary position could not guarantee permanent respect and that administrative power could not provide protection from the judgement of history.

The fall of a person who has flown too high and forgotten the ground does not always occur suddenly. It may be political, electoral, reputational, legal, or moral. Sometimes the position is retained for a while longer, even though public trust has already been lost; official speeches continue, but the former respect no longer exists. The more artificially a political image has been elevated, the more conspicuous its destruction becomes. A person who humiliated others while standing at the summit discovers, after losing power, that the deference shown by those around them was directed not towards the person, but towards the office they occupied. Once the office disappears, the flatterers, invitations, applause, and displays of loyalty disappear with it. It is at that moment that the meaning of the warning becomes especially clear: the higher the self-confident ascent, the lower and more painful the fall may be. Such a fall is neither an expression of malicious satisfaction nor an act of public revenge, but the restoration of a violated moral balance. Power tests a person through height, while history judges how that person behaved at that height. Someone who preserves dignity, modesty, and respect for other people can leave office with dignity. But someone who imagines themselves eternal, indispensable, and superior to society inevitably encounters the harshest truth: a person may rise with the assistance of many, but must fall alone.

⚖️ INDEPENDENT INVESTIGATIVE AND LEGAL STUDY AND ANALYTICAL DOSSIER

An Analytical Dossier on Family Political Capital, Institutional Intersections, and Public Accountability

DEFINITION OF THE NATURE AND PROCEDURAL STATUS OF THE MATERIAL

Copyright © 2026  All Rights Reserved  

This publication, comprising 189 PDF  pages, constitutes an independent investigative and legal study prepared in the form of an analytical dossier.

The work combines elements of legal analysis, investigative journalism, critical examination of governmental and public institutions, documentary chronology, analysis of open sources, and the author’s personal observations.

This material does not constitute a court judgment, an indictment, an act of a public authority, an official state audit, or a peer-reviewed academic publication. The use of the term “study” indicates the systematic nature of the work, its substantial scope, the comparison of sources, the identification of contradictions, and the formulation of questions requiring documentary and procedural verification.

The text distinguishes between:

• information confirmed by public sources;

• the author’s personal observations and testimony;

• critical and evaluative judgments;

• versions and assumptions requiring independent verification;

• questions addressed to governmental, political party, municipal, public, and media organisations.

The purpose of the present study is not to establish the criminal guilt of particular individuals without due legal process, but to analyse the possible intersection of public positions, party connections, public organisations, family political capital, media promotion, award mechanisms, and the use of public resources.

All persons and organisations mentioned retain the right to submit documents, objections, explanations, and rebuttals. However, the right of reply does not negate the author’s right to investigate matters of public importance, critically assess the actions of public figures, and demand an independent review of circumstances connected with the exercise of power, political influence, and the use of taxpayers’ money.

🎭 The Illusion of Meritocracy: From the Cult of Humility to Political Show Business

The contemporary Norwegian system has executed a hazardous substitution of concepts. The nation’s historical cultural code—founded upon egalitarianism, institutional accountability, and personal modesty—has been systematically displaced by aggressive self-promotion. We are currently witnessing a severe inflation of the very concept of merit: the status of a public leader or expert is no longer conferred as a consequence of decades of flawless service, intellectual competence, or measurable economic breakthroughs. Instead, authority is increasingly measured by the volume of airtime and the capacity to manipulate collective emotional perception. What we are observing is the birth and entrenchment of a closed, caste-like elite, wherein a media-manufactured "star" status automatically writes off any professional failures, ethical violations, or biographical lacunae.

🔄 The Integration Bureaucracy as a Factory for Cultivating Party Loyalty

When the structures of the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration (NAV) and regional immigrant councils are examined without the filtering lens of political correctness, they begin to resemble a highly coordinated mechanism of political патронаж. Essential assistance provided to newly arrived individuals—encompassing housing, social benefits, and linguistic adaptation—is funded entirely by all Norwegian taxpayers. On a practical level, however, this state-sponsored support is psychologically appropriated by a specific party nomenclature. Rather than fostering an independent, critically minded citizen, the integration machinery frequently channels dependency into a form of structural gratitude, effectively transforming a vulnerable population into a reliable electorate whose votes are pre-allocated to the ruling political elite.

👑 Family Capital in Circumvention of Open Democratic Competition

When the parliamentary career of a son commences at the precise moment the legislative term of his father concludes—unfolding within the identical electoral district and under the banner of the exact same political party—it becomes intellectually dishonest to attribute such advancement exclusively to independent talent. This sequence represents a calculated conversion of accumulated administrative, organizational, and media capital. While thousands of highly educated, qualified citizens spend years knocking on the closed doors of party nomination committees, the descendants of established systemic activists enjoy an accelerated political lift, further fortified by symbolic regional awards and the deliberate avoidance of critical institutional scrutiny.

📉 The Crisis of the Fourth Estate and Systemic Mutual Protection

The most alarming conclusion derived from this analysis concerns the contemporary behavior of the Norwegian mass media. Instead of performing their historic constitutional mission of rigorous oversight and independent investigation, leading journalistic outlets have largely transitioned into the service staff of this new political caste. Journalists compete in the manufacturing of complimentary biographical portraits and the continuous reproduction of flattering titles, thereby constructing an impenetrable symbolic cocoon around selected public figures and actively shielding them from substantive, uncomfortable questions regarding their actual competence and statecraft.

The New Caste of the Norwegian Establishment: From "Star" Status to Absolute Impunity

  Over the past twenty years, the Norwegian media and political landscape has been demonstrating a steady but deeply alarming trend. From the pages of leading newspapers, from television screens, and from radio speakers, a monotonous rhetoric flows in a continuous stream onto the heads of ordinary citizens, cultivating a cult of so-called "star" personalities. Society is aggressively forced to accept ready-made clichés: "star lawyer," "star politician," "star minister," "star member of parliament," and "star journalist," all of which serve to replace any genuine evaluation of their actual professional achievements.

   Against the backdrop of this artificial glorification, a natural and logical question arises: why is the modern lexicon of the Norwegian mass media completely devoid of definitions such as "star populist" or "star demagogue"? One gets the distinct impression that critical thinking is being deliberately replaced by blind worship of resonant titles. The information field has been thoroughly cleansed of uncomfortable definitions that could reflect the true essence of the activities of many public figures hiding behind glossy media facades.

   In fact, we are witnessing the process of the birth and entrenchment of a new social class, a new caste of untouchables. In a country that has historically prided itself on its egalitarianism and equality, a closed group of politically untouchable individuals has emerged, completely shielded from public and legal criticism. This elite has created an impenetrable cocoon around itself, protecting its members from any attempts to hold them to real civic, moral, or legal accountability.

   How well does such segregation align with Norway's international image as a flawless state in terms of honesty, transparency, and diligence? Reality reveals a profound rift between declared ideals and the actual state of affairs. Behind the facade of a perfect constitutional state lies a nomenclature system where belonging to the "star" cohort automatically writes off any professional failures, ethical violations, and serious cross-border gaps in personal biographies.

   In this regard, a direct and sharp question arises for the representatives of this new caste: are you not ashamed of your own actions and deeds? The hypocritical shielding behind high offices and status regalia is no longer capable of deceiving those who observe the results of your activities on a daily basis. Political and legal irresponsibility, which has become the norm for the highest echelons of power, undermines the very foundations of the Norwegian state and the citizens' faith in justice.

   By what moral and ethical criteria is one or another understanding of official designations determined in Norway today? The answer is disheartening: classical standards of meritocracy, where status was earned through years of flawless service and real deeds, have been replaced by loyalty within elite circles and media weight. A dangerous substitution of concepts is occurring, where authority is measured not by public utility, but by the amount of airtime and the ability to manipulate public opinion.

Where has elementary decency, integrity, and conscience disappeared to—qualities that have always been considered the foundation of Norwegian society? Where are those very unshakable principles of honesty and modesty embedded in the cultural code of Scandinavia? Today, these qualities are perceived by the new political caste as a weakness. Modesty has been displaced by aggressive self-promotion, and integrity by cynical pragmatism aimed solely at maintaining personal power and the status quo.

   From a legal perspective, the existence of such an "untouchable" group of individuals creates severe legal distortions. When the law is applied with full severity to ordinary citizens but becomes astonishingly blind and flexible regarding "star" ministers or MPs, the basic constitutional principle of equality before the law is violated. This breeds legal nihilism and a systemic crisis of trust in the institutions of justice.

  Long-term monitoring of the Norwegian political landscape shows that many biographical lacunae, dubious cross-border movements, and financial discrepancies of high-ranking individuals have been ignored by regulatory bodies for years. The media elite skillfully blocks any attempts at independent investigation, declaring them an "assault on democracy," while the real assault is their own non-transparent and unaccountable behavior.

   The Norwegian mass media, which by law should perform the function of the "fourth estate" and exercise oversight over the actions of officials, have largely turned into the service staff of this new caste. Instead of rigorous scrutiny and exposure, journalists compete in creating complimentary portraits of "star" figures, effectively acting as accomplices in the process of legitimizing their infallibility.

   Such mutual collusion between politicians, lawyers, and the press forms an oligarchical model of governance disguised as an advanced democracy. The ordinary citizen is led to believe that the rotation of faces in power ensures a change of course, but upon closer inspection, the exact same "star" characters remain in the arena, simply swapping ministerial chairs for parliamentary mandates or law firm partnerships.

   Historical experience shows that any system that excludes a specific group of citizens from criticism and creates an immunity from accountability for them is doomed to internal decay. The moral wear and tear of the Norwegian political class is visible to the naked eye today: from endless scandals involving nepotism and conflicts of interest to an utter inability to bear responsibility for systemic errors in state administration.

   Ordinary citizens who have lived in the country for decades have every right to demand a return to the roots—to transparency, accountability, and real equality. It is time to stop the practice of creating artificial idols and start calling things by their proper names. If a politician or a lawyer uses demagoguery to conceal violations, their status must be clearly qualified by society as "star populism," without any discounts for past merits.

   The presence of serious gaps in the verification of legal status, cross-border routes, or personal biographies of certain representatives of the elite will sooner or later require a harsh legal assessment that knows no statute of limitations. International conventions and transparency norms do not provide immunity for those who have arrogated to themselves the status of "untouchables." The accumulated mass of contradictions will inevitably lead to the judicial dismantling of their false authority.

   Ultimately, Norwegian society faces a fundamental choice: to continue obediently listening to "star chatter" or to demand the restoration of the unshakeable principles of honesty, modesty, and the rule of law. A true state under the rule of law is built not on media myths about the chosen ones, but on the total accountability of every single citizen—regardless of their official titles and loud ranks.

The Cult of Political Infallibility: Media Elites and the Crisis of Public Accountability in Norway

  Over the past two decades, a phenomenon has gradually emerged within Norwegian public and political life that deserves careful and critical examination. The issue extends far beyond the increasing influence of mass media on political discourse. More troubling is the steady construction of a distinct category of public figures around whom an aura of exceptionalism has been deliberately cultivated—an aura that increasingly shields them from meaningful public scrutiny and criticism.

Day after day, the country's leading media outlets reproduce the same familiar language. Society has become accustomed to expressions such as "star lawyer," "star minister," "star politician," "star member of parliament," and "star journalist." These descriptions have ceased to function merely as journalistic metaphors. Instead, they have gradually evolved into instruments that confer a form of symbolic public immunity.

  When such labels are repeated thousands of times, they cease to describe an individual and begin to shape public perception itself. Within the collective consciousness, a presumption of professional excellence and moral credibility is quietly established. The recipient of such titles is subconsciously regarded as more competent, more trustworthy, and more authoritative simply because the media continuously portray that person in those terms.

  Yet an obvious question inevitably arises. Why does the same media environment almost never employ expressions such as "star populist," "star demagogue," or "star manipulator of public opinion"? Why are flattering labels constantly reproduced while critical definitions appear virtually excluded from acceptable public vocabulary? The very absence of such linguistic balance deserves serious scholarly and democratic reflection.

  Language is never politically neutral. It shapes society's perception of power. For that reason, the persistent use of glorifying terminology gradually becomes an instrument through which a new political elite is socially constructed. Individuals cease to be evaluated primarily according to the quality of their public service or professional achievements. Instead, they are increasingly judged through carefully manufactured media images.

  This is how a new form of social stratification quietly emerges. Whereas social divisions were once determined by birth or economic status, they are now increasingly influenced by informational prestige and media recognition. Ordinary citizens remain subject to rigorous public and legal scrutiny, while others gradually find themselves inside a protected sphere of political untouchability.

  Such developments appear particularly paradoxical in a country that has traditionally presented itself as an international model of equality, transparency, modesty, and democratic governance. Norway's historical reputation has long rested upon the ideals of responsible public service, institutional humility, and minimal distance between political authority and society. Yet contemporary developments increasingly invite reflection on whether these foundational principles continue to exist not merely as constitutional ideals, but as living political realities.

The Formation of a Politically Untouchable Class

  It is precisely at this point, in the author’s view, that the formation of a new class of socially and politically untouchable individuals begins. This group does not possess any formally recognized legal immunity. Its protected position is created through the interaction of political influence, media support, institutional loyalty, and corporate solidarity among influential public structures.

  When a representative of this privileged circle commits a serious professional error, the public response is often strikingly restrained. When legitimate questions arise concerning that person’s political decisions, professional competence, biography, financial conduct, or effectiveness in public office, attention is frequently redirected away from the substance of the criticism and toward the identity, intentions, or reputation of the critic.

  As a result, the individual raising uncomfortable questions is gradually transformed from an observer into an accused party. Instead of examining whether the criticism is factually justified, public discussion begins to focus on whether the critic is sufficiently respectable, loyal, moderate, or socially acceptable. This mechanism discourages independent scrutiny and creates an atmosphere in which criticism of prominent figures may be portrayed as hostility toward democracy itself.

  Such practices gradually generate a perception of factual irresponsibility. A public official may formally remain accountable under the law, while in political and media reality being protected from the practical consequences of failure. Responsibility is acknowledged in speeches, yet avoided in practice. Mistakes are described as misunderstandings, conflicts of interest as administrative oversights, and systemic failures as unfortunate coincidences.

  It is therefore increasingly difficult to ignore the appearance of a broad system of mutual institutional protection. Political elites, parts of the legal profession, senior administrative networks, and influential sections of the media may begin to operate not as independent mechanisms of democratic oversight, but as interconnected elements of a single protective environment.

  This does not necessarily require a formal conspiracy or an explicit agreement between individuals. Systems of mutual protection are often sustained by shared interests, professional dependence, personal familiarity, party loyalty, institutional prestige, and an unspoken understanding that certain boundaries should not be crossed.

  Within such an environment, criticism is tolerated only as long as it remains harmless. Symbolic criticism may even be encouraged because it creates an appearance of openness. However, criticism capable of exposing structural failures, concealed conflicts of interest, questionable appointments, or politically sensitive biographical inconsistencies is frequently marginalized, softened, or removed from serious public discussion.

  This creates a democratic paradox. Institutions formally preserve freedom of expression, yet the practical consequences of exercising that freedom may be severe. An individual may possess the legal right to speak, publish, investigate, and question public authority, while simultaneously being excluded from media platforms, denied institutional recognition, or portrayed as unreliable.

  Political untouchability therefore does not always take the form of direct censorship. More frequently, it operates through silence, selective attention, reputational isolation, and the refusal to examine uncomfortable evidence. A subject need not be officially prohibited if it can simply be ignored.

  The result is a political culture in which silence becomes a method of governance. Facts may remain publicly available, documents may exist, and questions may be formally submitted, yet institutions may behave as though the matter does not exist. Such administrative silence is especially destructive because it creates no visible act of repression while producing nearly the same practical result.

  For an ordinary citizen, this experience can become profoundly disorienting. The state continues to describe itself as transparent and accountable, while the individual encounters institutional walls, unanswered correspondence, formalistic decisions, and repeated transfers of responsibility from one authority to another.

  This discrepancy between official democratic language and practical institutional behavior gradually undermines confidence not only in particular officials, but in the entire system of public administration. When serious questions remain unanswered for years, the public naturally begins to suspect that silence is not accidental but protective.

  The real danger lies in the normalization of this process. Once society becomes accustomed to the idea that certain individuals are too important, too famous, too politically connected, or too institutionally valuable to face full scrutiny, the principle of equality before the law begins to weaken in practice.

  No democratic state can preserve public trust indefinitely if responsibility depends upon social status. A legal order that acts decisively against ordinary citizens but cautiously toward powerful public figures creates two different realities: one for those who must obey the system and another for those who are protected by it.

  Such a division may remain invisible in official legislation, yet it becomes clearly visible in administrative decisions, media coverage, investigative priorities, and the unequal speed with which institutions react to allegations involving different categories of citizens.

  The existence of a politically untouchable class is therefore not established only by formal privileges. It may also be revealed through repeated patterns of institutional passivity, selective scrutiny, reputational protection, and the consistent avoidance of personal responsibility.

  A democratic system must be judged not by the principles it declares, but by the manner in which those principles are applied when politically influential individuals are involved. The true test of equality begins precisely where political convenience ends.

Media Prestige as a Substitute for Merit and Competence

  One of the most significant transformations within contemporary democratic societies concerns the changing nature of public authority itself. Traditionally, public respect was earned through decades of professional achievement, demonstrated integrity, intellectual competence, and measurable service to society. Reputation was the natural consequence of accomplishment rather than its substitute.

  Increasingly, however, a different model appears to be emerging. Public authority is no longer derived primarily from demonstrable competence or institutional achievement but from continuous media visibility. Familiarity begins to replace merit. Recognition replaces qualification. Repetition replaces independent evaluation.

  Modern communication technologies possess extraordinary power to influence collective perception. Constant media exposure gradually creates the impression that visibility itself constitutes evidence of expertise. Individuals become recognized not because they have consistently produced outstanding results but because they have become permanently present within the public information environment.

  The distinction between genuine professional authority and media-generated prominence consequently becomes increasingly blurred. Public recognition, although valuable in itself, cannot serve as a substitute for objective competence. Democratic institutions depend not upon popularity but upon the quality of decision-making, intellectual independence, ethical responsibility, and measurable public performance.

  This development creates an important democratic dilemma. When public opinion becomes primarily influenced by carefully constructed media narratives rather than independent critical assessment, political legitimacy gradually shifts from substance toward appearance. Image becomes more influential than evidence. Presentation becomes more persuasive than performance.

  Such tendencies are especially significant in political life. Electoral competition naturally encourages politicians to communicate effectively with the public. However, democratic communication fundamentally differs from political branding. The former seeks to inform citizens; the latter often seeks primarily to shape emotional perception while minimizing critical examination.

  Media prestige may therefore become a protective mechanism. A widely celebrated public figure often enjoys a level of public confidence that exceeds objective evaluation of professional achievements. Institutional mistakes, policy failures, administrative deficiencies, or ethical controversies may receive comparatively limited attention because they conflict with an already established public narrative.

  The consequence is not merely personal popularity. Rather, an entire informational environment develops in which criticism appears increasingly abnormal. Individuals who question established public reputations may themselves become objects of public suspicion, regardless of the factual strength of their arguments.

  Healthy democratic societies require precisely the opposite principle. The greater the political authority, institutional influence, or public visibility of an individual, the greater should be the degree of transparent scrutiny. Public prominence should increase accountability rather than reduce it.

  Meritocracy has historically represented one of the defining characteristics of successful democratic governance. Positions of responsibility were expected to reflect demonstrated competence, accumulated experience, professional discipline, and public trust earned through sustained service. When these standards gradually yield to media recognition or political branding, institutional quality inevitably suffers.

  The erosion of meritocratic standards rarely occurs suddenly. It advances incrementally through seemingly insignificant changes in public expectations. Citizens become accustomed to evaluating officials according to communication skills, television appearances, social media visibility, or rhetorical performance rather than objective administrative effectiveness or measurable policy outcomes.

  This transformation affects not only politics but the broader institutional culture. Public administration, journalism, academia, and even elements of the legal profession may increasingly reward visibility over substance. The long-term consequence is the gradual replacement of professional excellence with reputational management.

  No democratic society can indefinitely preserve institutional credibility if symbolic prestige consistently outweighs demonstrable competence. Public confidence ultimately depends not upon carefully maintained images but upon the observable quality of governance, impartial administration, transparent decision-making, and equal application of the law.

  The purpose of democratic institutions is not to manufacture celebrated personalities but to ensure responsible public service. When institutional prestige becomes concentrated around individuals rather than principles, democratic resilience begins to weaken. Personal reputation becomes politically valuable precisely because institutional accountability becomes comparatively less visible.

  History repeatedly demonstrates that societies remain stable not because their leaders are admired, but because their institutions remain stronger than the personalities who temporarily occupy positions of authority. Democracies flourish where public office remains a public trust rather than a personal distinction. Once media prestige becomes an alternative source of legitimacy independent of objective performance, democratic culture gradually risks transforming into a culture of political spectacle.

  For this reason, the preservation of genuine meritocracy remains not merely an administrative necessity but a constitutional imperative. A democratic state cannot rely upon carefully cultivated public images as substitutes for professional excellence. Sustainable legitimacy is earned through transparency, competence, accountability, and equal standards—not through continuous public acclaim or institutional admiration.

Equality Before the Law and the Illusion of Institutional Neutrality

  The principle of equality before the law constitutes one of the oldest and most fundamental pillars of constitutional democracy. It is not merely a legal doctrine but a moral commitment upon which the legitimacy of every democratic state ultimately depends. No public office, political mandate, institutional reputation, or professional distinction should exempt any individual from equal legal standards or public accountability.

  In constitutional theory, equality before the law requires far more than the formal existence of identical legal provisions. Genuine equality exists only when legal norms are applied consistently, impartially, and without regard to political influence, institutional prestige, professional status, media prominence, or social standing. Selective application of legal principles undermines the very foundation of the rule of law.

  This distinction between formal equality and practical equality is of decisive importance. A constitution may proclaim identical rights for all citizens, while administrative practice gradually develops different standards of institutional response depending upon the identity of those involved. Such disparities rarely appear within legislation itself; rather, they emerge through discretionary decision-making, selective enforcement, institutional priorities, and unequal willingness to investigate comparable situations.

  One of the greatest strengths of constitutional government lies in the predictability of legal institutions. Citizens must reasonably expect that similar conduct will be examined according to similar legal standards irrespective of personal identity or political significance. Once this expectation begins to weaken, confidence in the justice system inevitably deteriorates.

  Public trust cannot be maintained through declarations alone. Democratic legitimacy depends upon observable institutional behavior. Citizens evaluate constitutional principles not by reading legal texts but by witnessing how public authorities respond when influential individuals become subjects of legitimate public scrutiny.

  Institutional neutrality therefore represents far more than administrative professionalism. It requires intellectual independence, procedural consistency, and visible impartiality. Public institutions must not merely act fairly; they must also be perceived by society as acting fairly. The appearance of selective protection can become nearly as damaging as actual preferential treatment.

  This issue extends beyond individual legal cases. It concerns the broader constitutional culture of democratic governance. Where citizens begin to suspect that political prominence influences administrative outcomes, public confidence gradually shifts from trust toward skepticism. Institutions may continue to function formally while simultaneously losing moral authority.

  Such developments often occur incrementally. Individual decisions may appear reasonable when viewed in isolation. However, repeated patterns of selective institutional attention, inconsistent investigative priorities, delayed administrative responses, or unequal treatment of comparable circumstances gradually create a broader public perception of structural imbalance.

  The resulting damage is not confined to legal institutions alone. Confidence in representative democracy, independent journalism, public administration, and constitutional oversight bodies may all become affected. Citizens increasingly question whether institutional independence remains fully intact or whether informal networks of influence have begun to shape practical outcomes.

  An equally significant consequence concerns civic participation itself. Democratic systems depend upon citizens who believe that lawful participation, public criticism, investigative journalism, academic research, and civic engagement can meaningfully influence institutional behavior. If citizens instead conclude that influential individuals remain effectively insulated from scrutiny, political disengagement becomes increasingly likely.

  History repeatedly demonstrates that democratic institutions rarely collapse through dramatic constitutional crises alone. More often, institutional legitimacy gradually erodes through the accumulation of seemingly minor exceptions, selective practices, and administrative inconsistencies that individually appear insignificant but collectively transform public expectations.

  The concept of institutional neutrality must therefore remain subject to continuous democratic examination. Independence cannot simply be proclaimed; it must be demonstrated through consistent conduct. Transparency cannot exist solely within official reports; it must be reflected in observable administrative practice. Accountability cannot remain an abstract constitutional aspiration; it must become an everyday institutional reality.

  No democratic society should permit the emergence of two parallel systems of public accountability—one applicable to ordinary citizens and another, whether formal or informal, operating for politically influential individuals. The credibility of constitutional governance depends precisely upon the absence of such distinctions.

  The rule of law derives its moral authority not from the severity of legislation but from the impartiality of its application. A legal system commands genuine public respect only when citizens are convinced that neither political influence, institutional prestige, economic power, nor media prominence can alter the fundamental standards of justice.

  Ultimately, equality before the law represents not merely a constitutional guarantee but the ethical foundation of democratic civilization itself. Every deviation from this principle, however limited or gradual, weakens the relationship between citizens and the institutions created to serve them. The preservation of constitutional democracy therefore requires constant vigilance—not only against unlawful conduct, but also against the gradual normalization of unequal standards disguised beneath the language of institutional neutrality.

  For this reason, the true measure of a democratic state is not the eloquence of its constitutional declarations but the consistency with which those declarations are applied when political influence, public prestige, institutional authority, and media recognition intersect. Only where identical legal principles govern every citizen without exception can democracy genuinely claim to uphold the rule of law in both form and substance. 

Democracy Is Measured Not by Reputation but by Accountability

  Every democratic society eventually reaches a defining moment when it must decide whether public authority will continue to rest upon institutional integrity or gradually become dependent upon carefully constructed public reputation. Throughout history, democratic systems have rarely failed because their constitutions were poorly written. Far more often, they have weakened when public accountability slowly yielded to institutional convenience, political loyalty, and the gradual normalization of unequal standards.

  The strength of a constitutional democracy cannot be measured by international rankings, official declarations, or carefully managed public images. Such indicators may reflect aspiration, but they cannot substitute for reality. The true measure of democratic maturity lies in the everyday functioning of its institutions, in the consistency of legal standards, and in the willingness of those entrusted with public authority to remain fully accountable for their decisions.

  Public office has never been intended as a source of privilege. It is, above all, a public trust. Every political mandate carries with it not only authority but also an obligation to accept scrutiny, criticism, and independent examination. Democratic legitimacy is strengthened—not weakened—when public officials remain open to transparent evaluation by society.

  Likewise, a free press fulfills its historic mission not by celebrating those who govern but by examining power with intellectual independence and professional integrity. Journalism serves democracy most faithfully when it asks difficult questions without regard to political influence, institutional prestige, or public popularity. The credibility of the media depends not upon its proximity to power but upon its willingness to remain independent of it.

  No democratic society should aspire to create untouchable public figures. The moment criticism becomes selectively discouraged, accountability begins to diminish. The moment reputation becomes more influential than evidence, democratic culture begins to drift away from its constitutional foundations. Equality before the law must remain more than a constitutional principle; it must be a visible and everyday reality experienced by every citizen.

  History repeatedly reminds us that institutions survive only as long as they retain the confidence of the people they serve. That confidence cannot be demanded, inherited, or manufactured through public relations. It must be earned continuously through honesty, transparency, consistency, humility, and respect for the rule of law.

  Ultimately, democracy is not sustained by celebrated personalities, impressive titles, or carefully cultivated prestige. It endures because no individual is placed above constitutional principles, no institution is exempt from public examination, and no authority is relieved of responsibility for its actions.

  The future of every democratic nation depends upon its willingness to preserve these principles—not selectively, not symbolically, but universally and without exception. Where accountability prevails over reputation, democracy retains both its moral authority and its constitutional legitimacy. Where reputation replaces accountability, even the strongest democratic institutions gradually begin to lose the public trust upon which their existence ultimately depends.

  For this reason, the enduring strength of a democratic state is measured neither by the prominence of its leaders nor by the admiration they receive, but by the courage of its institutions to apply the same standards of legality, responsibility, and transparency to every individual without exception. In the final analysis, democracy is measured not by reputation, but by accountability.

THE FIRST MEETING WITH BIJAN GHARAHKHANI AND THE FORMATION OF MY PERSONAL ASSESSMENT

My first meeting with Bijan Gharahkhani took place on 7 July 2006 at an office of the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration in the town of Hokksund, in the municipality of Øvre Eiker.

At that time, Bijan Gharahkhani held an ordinary position as a social worker at the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration. He was not my caseworker and did not make any decisions concerning my legal status. My caseworker was Wenche Karøy, who conscientiously performed her duties until her death from cancer.

It is also necessary to make an important clarification: I did not undergo the ordinary procedure for submitting an individual application for asylum in Norway. My resettlement was carried out within the framework of an international quota mechanism with the participation of the United Nations, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, and the Norwegian Directorate of Immigration.

Therefore, my communication with Bijan Gharahkhani did not have the character of a relationship between a social services caseworker and a person under his supervision. We communicated only from time to time because we were present within the same regional administrative and public environment.

From the very first meeting, Bijan gave me the impression of being a secretive, evasive, and not entirely sincere person. His conduct conveyed caution, inner tension, and a desire not to disclose more information than he himself considered advantageous.

I emphasise that this was my personal professional impression and not a fact established by a court of law.

By the time of my arrival in Norway, I possessed many years of experience in the fields of law, criminology, and the investigation of complex cases. As a Doctor of Jurisprudence, legal scholar, criminologist, and former investigator within the state security bodies of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, I was professionally trained to pay attention not only to a person’s words, but also to the manner in which they were spoken, the consistency with which events were described, the person’s reaction to clarifying questions, sudden pauses, evasions of direct answers, and changes in individual elements of a biographical account.

Professional intuition does not constitute evidence and cannot replace documents. However, it makes it possible to notice contradictions in a timely manner that subsequently require verification.

During the following years, my initial impression did not disappear. On the contrary, during our occasional interactions, I personally observed contradictory accounts given by Bijan regarding his own biography, evasions of direct questions, and changes to individual versions of events depending upon the circumstances and the audience.

Instead of clear and consistent answers, new explanations, additional interpretations, and emotional digressions frequently appeared, diverting the conversation away from the original question. In situations where a brief and verifiable answer could have been provided, a verbal construction would emerge that left even more uncertainties than before.

Gradually, an image emerged before me of a person whose true biography was surrounded by numerous omissions, contradictions, and blank spaces. Some fragments of his life story were actively presented to the public, others remained in the shadows, while still others acquired different meanings depending upon the political or social circumstances.

I also observed how Bijan used personal connections, his official position, party contacts, and the authority he had acquired through his participation in public organisations. His work in the fields of integration and public affairs gradually became for him not only a form of assisting people, but also a source of social influence, media recognition, and political capital.

This does not mean that every aspect of Bijan’s work within public organisations was improper. However, the combination of social work, party activity, leadership within public organisations, and a constant public presence created around him a broad network of contacts and influence. A legitimate question therefore arises: was this network used exclusively in the public interest, or did it simultaneously become a mechanism for strengthening the position of his own family?

This question becomes particularly important when examining the political career of his son, Masud Gharahkhani.

Over time, I observed how the father’s social and political capital created a favourable environment for the political advancement of his son. Bijan’s guidance, his connections within the Labour Party, his influence within regional public structures, and his contacts with representatives of the mass media objectively provided Masud with opportunities that are unavailable to most young people beginning their political careers independently.

The media promotion of Masud did not emerge within an empty space. It developed alongside the already established public image of his father as an integration activist, a representative of the immigrant community, and a regional politician. Bijan’s public recognition, party contacts, and influence within organisations became part of the political environment in which his son’s career was constructed.

A father’s guidance does not in itself constitute a violation. Parents have the right to support their children, advise them, and introduce them to public life. However, when family support intersects with party nomination mechanisms, public organisations, governmental positions, and systematic media promotion, it ceases to be an exclusively private family matter.

It becomes necessary to verify where ordinary paternal assistance ended and where the use of accumulated political and organisational capital for the advancement of a member of one’s own family began.

I do not assert that the mere sequence of the political careers of father and son automatically proves nepotism. Such a conclusion requires the examination of documents, party records, candidate nomination procedures, the results of internal votes, the composition of nomination committees, and the role of specific officials.

However, society has the right to ask these questions.

My many years of experience communicating with Bijan Gharahkhani do not allow me to accept unconditionally the image created by the mass media of an exclusively open, selfless, and irreproachable public figure. Behind this carefully maintained public image, I observed a different person—cautious, secretive, capable of changing versions of events, evading uncomfortable questions, and using social, party, and public mechanisms to strengthen his own influence.

It is precisely for this reason that the shared political history of Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani must be examined not as a touching family legend of successful integration, but as a legitimate subject of independent journalistic, political, and institutional analysis.

II. BIJAN AND MASUD GHARAHKHANI: WHEN POLITICAL STATUS EXCEEDS ACTUAL COMPETENCE

The central problem in the political history of Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani concerns not only the possible use of family, party, and public connections. There is another, considerably more uncomfortable question: do their actual intellectual, professional, and statesmanlike abilities correspond to the high public positions they have attained?

In my personal opinion, based on many years of observation, the answer to this question is far from obvious.

Throughout Bijan Gharahkhani’s prolonged public and political activity, I did not see an independent political philosophy, a serious economic programme, profound legal analysis, or an original concept of state development.

The public was constantly told about his integration activities, work with migrants, party involvement, speeches, meetings, and participation in numerous events. However, the number of speeches delivered does not constitute evidence of intellectual depth. The length of time spent within a public organisation does not confirm managerial talent. Media prominence does not transform a social worker into a statesman.

Bijan held an ordinary position as a social worker. Nevertheless, an image was gradually created around this entirely ordinary professional position, portraying him as a major public leader, an integration mentor, and a political representative of the immigrant population of an entire region.

On what grounds did such an exalted image arise?

What fundamental works on integration did he write?

What recognised scholarly or legal concepts did he develop?

What measurable economic results did his activities produce?

How many people, as a result of programmes implemented under his leadership, obtained an education, secured permanent employment, and achieved genuine economic independence?

What specific administrative reforms were prepared and implemented on his initiative?

The public was primarily given answers to these questions not through documents and statistical results, but through emotional stories, ceremonial interviews, and the repetition of the same biographical legend.

Bijan Gharahkhani headed the Buskerud Immigrant Council for twenty-four years. However, twenty-four years in a leadership position is not merely an occasion for congratulations. It is also a reason to ask why, over the course of almost a quarter of a century, this public organisation was unable to prepare another leader.

Were there truly no educated, independent, and worthy individuals among the thousands of immigrants in Buskerud who were capable of heading this organisation?

Why did its leadership become so firmly associated with a single surname?

How were the elections conducted?

Were there genuine rival candidates?

Were voting records, financial reports, and information concerning the expenditure of governmental and municipal funds published?

Or did the public organisation gradually become a personal instrument of political influence in the hands of its long-standing leader?

I do not assert, without documentary evidence, that violations of the law occurred within the activities of the Buskerud Immigrant Council. However, the fact that its leader remained unchanged for twenty-four years is in itself incompatible with the spirit of genuine internal democracy unless it was accompanied by open competition, independent oversight, and complete financial transparency.

The political career of the son raises even more serious questions.

Official information published by the Storting confirms that Masud Gharahkhani progressed from being the third Substitute Member of Parliament for Buskerud during the period from 2009 to 2013 to becoming a full Member of Parliament and subsequently the President of the national parliament.

Formally, this appears to be a successful political career. However, a high-ranking position does not in itself prove the possession of outstanding abilities. It confirms primarily that the individual received the support of the party system and the necessary number of votes within political mechanisms.

A party nomination is not a diploma certifying intellectual superiority.

Election to office is not evidence of a profound understanding of economics.

A prestigious chair is not a guarantee of statesmanlike thinking.

In my opinion, the public speeches delivered by Masud Gharahkhani all too often consist of pre-prepared general phrases about democracy, trust, diversity, solidarity, and the protection of Norwegian values. These words sound correct and convenient, but they do not always reveal any independent analysis behind them.

When a discussion moves beyond prepared formulations and concerns complex matters of economics, the state budget, tax policy, energy, national security, or international relations, Masud, in my view, does not demonstrate the depth expected of a person occupying one of the highest constitutional offices in the Kingdom of Norway.

At times, one receives the impression that he finds it difficult to formulate even several coherent and independent thoughts without a pre-prepared text, familiar political slogans, and the assistance of a professional administrative apparatus.

This is a harsh assessment, but the head of the national parliament cannot expect leniency. The higher the public office, the stricter the requirements must be regarding intellectual preparation, the ability to analyse complex processes, and the capacity to answer uncomfortable questions.

The President of the Storting represents the parliament not only at ceremonial events. He participates in international meetings, maintains contact with the leaders of foreign states and parliaments, and speaks on matters concerning democracy, war, security, and international cooperation.

Therefore, the absence of convincing competence in the field of international politics cannot be justified by claiming that the President of the Storting primarily performs representative functions.

Representing the state does not mean merely smiling before cameras, delivering prepared speeches, and participating in official photographs.

Representing the state means understanding the historical context, international law, the country’s economic interests, the diplomatic consequences of public statements, and the limits of one’s own constitutional authority.

I have seen no convincing grounds for regarding Masud Gharahkhani as an outstanding political thinker, economist, diplomat, or state strategist.

What serious political concepts are associated with his name?

What complex parliamentary reforms did he develop?

What independent economic proposals did he put forward?

What international initiatives that produced measurable results for Norway were personally prepared by him?

What principled positions did he defend in opposition to prevailing party considerations?

Answers to these questions are difficult to find beyond official biographies, ceremonial publications, and media materials devoted to the symbolic significance of his background and career success.

The Norwegian mass media have been extremely eager to tell an appealing story: a migrant family arrives in the country, the father becomes a public activist, and the son rises to the position of President of the national parliament.

Such a story is emotionally attractive. It is convenient for the state, the political party, and the integration bureaucracy. It can be presented as proof of the success of the Norwegian model.

However, the emotional appeal of a biography cannot replace an examination of professional competence.

A person’s background is not an achievement.

Membership of a migrant family is not a political programme.

Symbolic representation cannot replace knowledge of economics, law, and international relations.

A personal story does not relieve an individual of the obligation to demonstrate suitability for the office held.

It is precisely here that the role of the father becomes particularly apparent. Bijan created around himself a network of public, party, and media connections. Masud was given the opportunity to begin his career not from a starting point of zero, but within an already prepared political environment.

First, the father was included on the Norwegian Labour Party’s parliamentary list for Buskerud for the period from 2005 to 2009. Then, immediately after the conclusion of that period, the son appeared within the parliamentary system representing the same region and the same party.

It is far too convenient to explain this sequence exclusively as a coincidence and as the result of the son’s personal talent.

I do not claim that Masud made no efforts of his own. However, thousands of young people in Norway study, work, participate in public life, and possess considerably more profound knowledge of economics, law, history, and international relations. Most of them will never gain access to party nomination committees, media platforms, or influential political connections.

Why does one young man receive an accelerated political lift while others remain outside the closed doors of the party system for years?

What role did the family name play?

What role did the father’s connections play?

What role did the Buskerud Immigrant Council play?

What role did the support of the Norwegian Labour Party’s regional structures play?

What role was played by journalists who, instead of conducting critical scrutiny, spent years creating an attractive family portrait?

Without answers to these questions, it is impossible to provide an honest assessment of Masud Gharahkhani’s political career.

In my opinion, this is precisely the type of situation expressed in the Russian traditional saying: “The cap does not fit Senka.”

In other words, the magnitude of the office raises serious doubts as to whether it corresponds to the stature, knowledge, and independently demonstrated achievements of the individual who holds that office.

This applies both to the father, whose prolonged public activity was transformed by the mass media into the image of an exceptional leader, and to the son, whose rapid career was presented almost as historical proof of his outstanding abilities.

However, neither the length of time spent at the head of a public organisation, nor a grand party title, nor the office of President of the national parliament can serve as a substitute for genuine competence.

A person may rise to the summit of the political system through knowledge, strength of character, and statesmanlike talent. However, a person may also reach that summit through family connections, party discipline, a successfully constructed media image, and the willingness of the system to promote a convenient candidate.

In my opinion, the political rise of Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani is explained considerably more convincingly by the operation of connections, public mechanisms, and media promotion than by the existence of outstanding intellectual or statesmanlike strength.

It is precisely for this reason that their shared political history requires not admiration, but critical examination.

Society must be shown not another ceremonial family portrait, but documents, results, records, actual achievements, and evidence of professional competence.

Only then will it be possible to answer the principal question: did Masud Gharahkhani truly rise to the summit of Norwegian politics because of his own exceptional abilities, or did a high office of state prove considerably larger than the person to whom it was entrusted by a closed party system?

III. THE MEDIA FACTORY OF “STAR” POLITICS: HOW A FATHER AND SON WERE TRANSFORMED INTO AN ATTRACTIVE PUBLIC BRAND

The mass media like to portray themselves as a neutral mirror that merely reflects events taking place within society. In reality, however, journalism is capable not only of showing popularity that already exists, but also of deliberately creating it.

It is precisely the long-term repetition of a surname, the publication of emotional family stories, ceremonial interviews, attractive photographs, honorary titles, and the absence of serious critical questions that gradually transform an ordinary regional public figure into a “well-known politician” and his son into a political figure of national importance.

In the case of Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani, the Norwegian mass media did not confine themselves to providing a neutral description of their activities. They participated in the creation of a family political brand.

First, the public was presented with the image of the father—an active migrant, an integration advocate, a social worker, the head of a public organisation, and a representative of the Norwegian Labour Party.

Then, alongside him, there emerged the image of the son—a young politician of the “new Norway” who had supposedly risen to the highest parliamentary office through his own efforts and the opportunities provided by a democratic state.

These two images were combined into a convenient and emotionally attractive narrative: Norway receives a migrant family, the father serves society, and the son becomes President of the Storting.

For a political party, such a story represents ideal publicity material.

For the integration bureaucracy, it becomes evidence of the effectiveness of many years of governmental policy.

For journalists, it provides a ready-made human-interest story that requires no complex examination of documents, party procedures, financial reports, or conflicts of interest.

However, the convenience of a story does not prove its objectivity.

Society has the right to ask: where does journalistic coverage end and the political manufacture of reputation begin?

The Title “Årets navn” as an Instrument of Symbolic Glorification

In 2006, Bijan Gharahkhani was named “Årets navn”—“Name of the Year,” or, in a contextual translation, “Person of the Year”—by readers of the regional newspaper Drammens Tidende.

A readers’ poll is in itself a permissible form of interaction between a newspaper and its audience. However, the journalistic community must not present the results of such a poll as objective proof of the winner’s exceptional achievements.

A readers’ poll demonstrates primarily the ability of a candidate and that candidate’s supporters to mobilise the most active section of the audience.

It does not prove that the winner was the most competent, the most honest, the most useful, or the most deserving person in the region.

An objective assessment requires answers to the following questions:

• Who proposed the nomination of Bijan Gharahkhani?

• What specific achievements were presented as the grounds for his nomination?

• Who were the other candidates?

• How many people participated in the vote?

• How many votes did each candidate receive?

• Was repeat voting permitted?

• How was the uniqueness of each vote verified?

• Was there an organised mobilisation of supporters?

• Were party, public, or integration structures used for campaigning?

• What role did the editorial board play in the prior construction of an attractive image of the candidate?

Until this information is disclosed, the title “Årets navn” cannot be used as independent confirmation of Bijan’s public greatness.

It demonstrates only the result of a particular vote conducted by a particular newspaper under rules established by that newspaper.

However, the media mechanism did not stop there.

Fifteen years later, during the coronavirus pandemic, Masud Gharahkhani was named “Årets navn” for 2021 by the newspaper Drammens Tidende.

Thus, the symbolic title previously awarded to the father also passed to the son.

An extremely uncomfortable question consequently arises: did regional media recognition become a kind of hereditary tradition within a single political family?

How many families in Buskerud can claim that first the father and then the son received the title “Person of the Year” from the same regional newspaper?

Was this sequence exclusively the result of the exceptional achievements of two individuals, or does it indicate the family’s long-standing closeness to the regional journalistic, party, and public environment?

The editorial board was obliged to understand that the repeated glorification of members of the same family would create an impression of preferential treatment.

The Moral Problem of the Choice Made During the Pandemic

The timing of the award presented to Masud Gharahkhani raises a particularly serious moral problem.

In 2021, the coronavirus pandemic continued to claim human lives. Doctors, nurses, hospital orderlies, paramedics, employees of care homes for older persons, public transport drivers, public utility workers, and numerous volunteers placed their own health at risk every day.

They did not work in front of television cameras.

They did not have party apparatuses at their disposal.

They had no professional public relations specialists.

Their photographs did not decorate political publications.

They simply performed their duties, saved patients, cared for older persons, ensured the functioning of cities, and risked bringing the infection home to their own families.

Why was the President of the Storting considered more deserving of the title “Person of the Year” than a doctor who had spent hundreds of hours in an infectious disease ward?

How many lives did Masud Gharahkhani personally save?

How many night shifts did he spend beside seriously ill patients?

How many infected people were under his direct responsibility?

In what way did his political activity in 2021 surpass the daily work of those who were genuinely on the front line of the pandemic?

After receiving the title, Masud himself stated that the people who genuinely deserved recognition were the frontline workers who had saved lives and kept essential public services functioning.

Those words sound correct. But they do not eliminate the moral contradiction.

If a politician genuinely believes that other people deserved the title, that politician can do more than simply address them with an attractive phrase. He can publicly decline the title, propose that it be transferred to a collective of medical workers, or request that the newspaper symbolically dedicate the award to all frontline employees.

Publicly accepting the title while simultaneously stating that it was deserved by others makes it possible to retain both the award and the image of a modest politician.

This is an extraordinarily convenient media construction.

The politician receives the title.

The newspaper receives an emotional story.

Frontline workers receive words of gratitude.

But the symbolic capital and public attention remain with a representative of the political elite.

It is precisely for this reason that editorial responsibility cannot be dismissed with the formula: “The readers decided.”

“The Readers Decided” Does Not Release the Editorial Board from Responsibility

The newspaper itself creates the voting mechanism.

The editorial board determines the list of candidates.

The editorial board decides how much attention each participant will receive.

The editorial board selects the photographs, headlines, biographical information, and tone of the publications.

The editorial board establishes the duration of the vote and its technical rules.

The editorial board determines how ceremonially the final result will be presented.

Consequently, it is the editorial board that bears professional and moral responsibility for the mechanism of public glorification that it has created.

If one candidate has appeared regularly in the newspaper’s pages for many years while another remains almost unknown to readers, formal equality on the ballot means nothing.

The media prominence previously created by the newspaper itself becomes an advantage in the subsequent readers’ poll.

This produces a closed circle.

First, journalists make a person famous.

Then that fame helps the person win the vote.

The victory is subsequently used as proof that the journalists were correct in regarding that person as an outstanding public figure.

In this manner, a media reputation begins to reproduce itself.

When a Family Biography Replaces the Examination of Competence

Emotional biography all too often dominates publications concerning the father and son.

Migration.

The difficulties of adaptation.

The father’s work.

The son’s political success.

The family’s pride.

Tears during the nomination to high office.

The historical significance of the background of the President of the Storting.

All these elements create a powerful emotional impression. However, they say nothing about a politician’s professional competence.

Family emotions are not a governmental programme.

A father’s tears do not explain the procedures through which his son was nominated by the party.

A history of migration does not confirm knowledge of economics.

An emotional biography cannot replace an understanding of international law.

Symbolic status is not proof of an ability to lead the national parliament.

The mass media were obliged to ask Masud far more difficult questions.

What independent political ideas did he develop?

What economic decisions is he capable of explaining professionally?

How does he understand the constitutional limits of the office of President of the Storting?

How does he distinguish parliamentary diplomacy from interference in the Government’s foreign policy?

What specific results of his work can be measured?

What role did his father play in his first party nominations?

Which regional party figures supported his candidacy?

What relationships existed between the Buskerud Immigrant Council and the regional structures of the Norwegian Labour Party?

Instead, the public was primarily offered a carefully crafted portrait of a successful politician with a migrant background.

This is how journalism ceases to scrutinise power and begins to serve its reputation.

Constructive Demands Addressed to Drammens Tidende and Other Media Outlets

Serious criticism must not be confined to moral outrage. It must contain specific demands capable of restoring public trust.

The editorial board of Drammens Tidende should publish a separate explanation concerning every vote in which Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani received the title “Årets navn.”

The following information must be disclosed:

1.   The complete list of candidates for the relevant years.

2.   The criteria governing the inclusion of each person among the candidates.

3.   The names of the persons or organisations that proposed the nominations.

4.   The total number of participants in the vote.

5.   The precise number of votes received by each candidate.

6.   The technical measures used to prevent repeat or automated voting.

7.   Information concerning organised campaigns in support of the candidates.

8.   The possible use of party, public, religious, or integration networks to mobilise votes.

9.   The nature of the professional and personal contacts between members of the editorial staff and the candidates.

10.                    The editorial justification for presenting a political figure as more deserving of symbolic recognition during the pandemic than frontline medical and social care workers.

The newspaper must also clearly distinguish between readers’ popularity and an editorial assessment of merit.

The wording “winner of a readers’ poll” is accurate.

The wording “a person recognised by the entire region” misleads the public if only a small and highly organised section of the audience participated in the vote.

An independent examination of editorial practices is also necessary. It could be conducted by an external specialist in journalistic ethics or an independent editorial ombudsman.

The purpose of such an examination should not be to punish journalists, but to determine whether a long-term system of predominantly favourable coverage developed around a single political family.

Criticism Is Not an Attack on a Person’s Background

It is necessary to emphasise once again that the subject of this criticism is not the Iranian, Kurdish, or migrant background of Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani.

Any attempt to use ethnic origin as a basis for suspicion would be unacceptable.

However, it is equally unacceptable to use a migrant background as a shield against legitimate criticism.

Equality means identical requirements.

If journalists are required to examine the political career of a person of Norwegian origin, they are equally required to examine the career of a politician with a migrant background with the same degree of diligence.

If family relationships raise questions in relation to one family, the same questions must be asked of another family regardless of its nationality, religion, or history of resettlement.

Refusing to conduct critical analysis under the pretext of protecting diversity is not respect. It is a form of political patronage.

It effectively means that a particular politician is considered incapable of answering the same difficult questions that are addressed to other representatives of public authority.

Journalism That Bows Before Power Ceases to Be Journalism

A free press does not exist to create political idols.

Its duty is to examine power, identify contradictions, compare promises with results, and protect society’s right to know the truth.

When journalists spend years creating a favourable image of a politician and then use the popularity they themselves created as confirmation of that politician’s exceptional qualities, they cease to be independent observers.

They become participants in political advancement.

In the case of Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani, the Norwegian journalistic community is obliged to answer honestly where the boundary lay between information, sympathy, political publicity, and the creation of a family brand.

Why did the public receive so many emotional stories and so little critical analysis?

Why was the transfer of political influence from father to son almost never examined?

Why were party procedures, regional connections, and the role of public organisations not investigated?

Why were grand titles awarded without the publication of all necessary information concerning the voting mechanism?

Why did a professional politician once again occupy the symbolic centre of public attention during the pandemic?

Until convincing answers are provided, the titles “Årets navn” awarded to members of the same family must be regarded not as indisputable proof of their exceptional public achievements, but as part of a broader mechanism for the media manufacture of political reputation.

Popularity is not competence.

Fame is not merit.

A title is not an act of heroism.

An emotional family story is not proof of outstanding statesmanlike ability.

And if the press genuinely wishes to remain the fourth estate, it must not glorify politicians. It must be the first to demand from them complete transparency, professional competence, and personal accountability.

IV. THE AWARDS CONVEYOR BELT AND THE POLITICAL “STAR SHOWER”: WHEN HONOUR CEASES TO BE A MEASURE OF GENUINE MERIT

I have lived in Norway since 7 July 2006. For twenty years, I have observed the public, political, and media life of Buskerud, the municipality of Øvre Eiker, the town of Hokksund, and the neighbouring municipalities.

During this period, I have formed the firm impression that an almost continuous mechanism of symbolic encouragement operates around Bijan Gharahkhani, his son Masud, and other members of this family.

Year after year, new honorary designations, public titles, municipal prizes, readers’ polls, anniversary gifts, cultural awards, and ceremonial publications appear.

Every individual form of recognition may have a formal explanation. However, when awards, expressions of appreciation, and laudatory publications are constantly concentrated around members of one politically influential family, society is obliged to examine not an individual award, but the entire sequence as a whole.

What emerges before us is a genuine political star shower.

One receives the impression that regional authorities, municipal structures, public organisations, and their associated mass media are constantly searching for a new reason to recognise, reward, glorify, or publicly congratulate representatives of the same family once again.

But for precisely what exceptional achievements?

What has Bijan Gharahkhani accomplished that is so outstanding for the Norwegian state, science, economics, law, or the country’s international standing?

What fundamental transformations are associated with his name?

What long-term results of his activities can be independently verified?

What specific achievements of Masud Gharahkhani so greatly exceed the contributions of thousands of other Norwegian citizens that his name regularly appears at the centre of yet another award ceremony?

Where does fair recognition end and the artificial manufacture of public greatness begin?

A Chronology of Repeated Glorification

Open sources confirm several of the most notable examples.

In 2006, Bijan Gharahkhani was named “Årets navn” by readers of Drammens Tidende.

In 2011, he received the municipality of Øvre Eiker’s Values Prize—Verdipris.

In 2024, he was awarded the Cultural Prize of the municipality of Øvre Eiker, which was ceremonially presented in January 2025.

His son Masud was named Drammens Tidende’s “Årets navn” for 2021 and later publicly stated that he had received the same title for 2022.

In 2026, Masud Gharahkhani was presented with another symbolic award—“Årets Regnbuesjel,” or “Rainbow Soul of the Year.”

This list may not encompass every formal and informal form of recognition, publication, anniversary celebration, and public expression of appreciation. However, even this sequence demonstrates a consistent pattern: the regional political and media environment regularly returns to a single family as a permanent object of public glorification.

A question consequently arises: are there truly so few other deserving people in Buskerud and Øvre Eiker?

Are there no teachers, doctors, engineers, entrepreneurs, social workers, volunteers, cultural workers, firefighters, rescue workers, or public utility employees in the region who have served society for decades without loud self-promotion?

Why is the public spotlight repeatedly directed towards Bijan or Masud Gharahkhani?

Why does a surname that already possesses substantial political, administrative, and media capital continue to receive additional symbolic advantages?

An award should correct the public invisibility of a deserving person, not further increase the prominence of someone who is already constantly appearing before television cameras.

Immodesty Transformed into a Political Technology

I sometimes feel ashamed when observing such immodesty.

Genuine public merit does not require annual reminders.

A person who has truly accomplished something significant does not need to appear constantly in newspapers with yet another certificate, prize, bouquet of flowers, or honorary insignia.

However, in the case under consideration, every new award is transformed into yet another media event.

Photographs appear.

Speeches of gratitude are published.

The family biography is recounted once again.

The family’s migrant background is emphasised once again.

Once again, the impression is created that society is encountering exceptional individuals without whom the political and public history of the region would be unimaginable.

In this manner, modesty is displaced by a carefully organised public presence.

An award recipient may speak of gratitude, humility, and recognition of the achievements of others. However, if every form of recognition is accompanied by journalists, photographers, party colleagues, and a ceremonial publication, modesty becomes part of the performance.

A convenient formula emerges: a person publicly declares that he does not consider himself exceptional while simultaneously accepting another title, another prize, and additional media attention.

Zahra Khalili’s Anniversary Recognition and the Inequality of Media Attention

In November 2021, Zahra Khalili, Bijan’s wife and Masud’s mother, received an anniversary gift marking twenty-five years of work as a teacher within the adult education system of the municipality of Øvre Eiker.

It is necessary to state precisely that, according to published information, this was not an exceptional personal award. The municipality was recognising a group of employees who had completed twenty-five years of service. Nineteen long-serving employees were invited to the event, and Zahra, like the other employees, received a token of appreciation for her prolonged service.

Consequently, the recognition of twenty-five years of work is not in itself objectionable. A person who has conscientiously worked for a quarter of a century is entitled to receive the respect of her employer.

But why was an ordinary collective recognition ceremony for municipal employees transformed primarily into a media presentation of the Gharahkhani family?

Masud Gharahkhani, the recently elected President of the Storting, unexpectedly arrived at the event.

Bijan appeared alongside him.

The mayor and municipal director participated in the ceremony.

The family was accompanied by a film crew from the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation.

As a result, public attention was once again focused not upon the nineteen municipal employees who had performed their duties for decades, but primarily upon the family of a high-ranking politician.

How did the other long-serving employees feel?

Why did their work not receive comparable attention from the national mass media?

Why was an ordinary expression of appreciation towards one of many employees transformed into a continuation of the family’s political story?

This is precisely how inequality of symbolic attention emerges.

Formally, all employees receive identical gifts.

But one employee also receives cameras, the participation of the President of Parliament, the presence of regional leaders, and a separate journalistic publication.

Outwardly, this appears to be a touching family event. Politically, however, it further strengthens the family’s public brand.

Commercial Awards Also Require Transparency

If individual members of a politically influential family receive prizes, gifts, or forms of recognition from commercial organisations, such forms of encouragement must be examined with particular care.

It is necessary to establish:

• who founded the award;

• who finances the organisation conducting the ceremony;

• who served on the jury or selection committee;

• what relationships connect the founders of the award with the recipient;

• whether contractual, business, party, or lobbying relationships exist;

• whether the organisers received governmental funding;

• whether they applied for municipal contracts, grants, or political support;

• whether the award was accompanied by a financial payment, gift, journey, or other material benefit;

• whether the award had been established in advance or was specially created for a particular recipient.

A commercial organisation is entitled to present its own awards. However, if the recipient is a high-ranking politician, a close relative of such a politician, or a member of an influential political family, society has the right to know whether the award constitutes a disguised method of establishing useful relationships.

An award must not become a means of purchasing goodwill, access, or political attention.

My Own Awards and the Principle of Personal Modesty

I consciously refrain from running to Norwegian newspapers and presenting journalists with my diplomas, awards, and honorary insignia.

I do not demand that municipal authorities invent new titles for me every year.

I do not transform every instance of professional recognition into a public performance.

Nevertheless, I possess documents concerning an honour of which I am genuinely proud.

According to the diploma issued to me, an Israeli scientific research institution specialising in space research and astronomy recognised my fundamental contribution to the development of the foundations of modern theoretical philosophy by assigning my name to a distant cosmic object described in the document as a planet in the constellation of Taurus, located at a distance of twenty-two million light-years from Earth.

I possess the corresponding diploma and insignia.

I mention this not for the purpose of self-glorification, but to explain the fundamental difference between professional recognition based upon many years of scholarly and philosophical work and a regional awards conveyor belt that constantly reproduces the prominence of people who are already politically influential.

Genuine recognition does not require an annual publicity campaign.

Its value is determined not by the number of newspaper photographs, but by the scale of the work that served as the basis for the award.

I am proud of the recognition of my scholarly achievements, but I do not consider it necessary to transform that recognition into a means of exerting pressure upon public opinion or into proof of personal superiority over other people.

It is precisely modesty that distinguishes a deserved award from political vanity.

Award Inflation Destroys the Meaning of Public Recognition

If the same person or members of the same family are rewarded too frequently, every subsequent award gradually loses its significance.

Award inflation emerges.

Honour ceases to be a rare recognition of a genuinely outstanding contribution and becomes a routine element of political servicing.

Instead of asking, “What outstanding achievement did this person accomplish?” society is taught to accept a different thought: “If this person has been rewarded again, then he must probably be truly exceptional.”

However, the number of awards does not prove the quality of the achievements if those awards arise within the same political, municipal, and media environment.

Organisations reward a person who was previously glorified by a newspaper.

The newspaper reports on the award presented by the organisation.

Party colleagues congratulate the recipient.

Municipal authorities conduct the ceremony.

Every new publication then refers to the previous awards as proof of an already established public reputation.

In this manner, a self-sustaining system of mutual recognition is created.

Within this system, an award confirms prominence, while prominence becomes the basis for the next award.

Constructive Requirements for the Municipal Awards System

To restore confidence in public and municipal awards, the municipality of Øvre Eiker, the regional structures of Buskerud, and other relevant organisations must ensure complete transparency.

An open awards register must be created containing:

1.   The full title of every award.

2.   The legal or organisational basis upon which it was established.

3.   The composition of the nomination committee and jury.

4.   A list of all nominated candidates.

5.   The criteria used to assess merit.

6.   A documented justification for the selection of the winner.

7.   Information concerning the sources of funding for the award and ceremony.

8.   Information concerning the party affiliations of jury members and possible conflicts of interest.

9.   Information concerning familial, professional, or business relationships among participants in the procedure.

10.                    A list of all previous recipients of the award.

A principle of reasonable limitation should also be established regarding the repeated recognition of the same person or members of the same family within a particular period unless genuinely exceptional new achievements exist.

Municipal awards must not be transformed into a hereditary system of honour.

Award committees should include independent representatives of education, science, culture, medicine, voluntary organisations, and professional associations rather than being composed primarily of party acquaintances and administrative colleagues.

A clear distinction must also be established between:

• awards for long service;

• professional prizes;

• public awards;

• readers’ polls;

• party recognition;

• commercial awards;

• state and municipal honours.

Combining all these different forms of recognition into a single media image creates the false impression of continuous and universal public acclaim.

Honour Must Not Be Transformed into Family Property

Neither Bijan, nor Masud, nor Zahra Khalili should be deprived of the right to fair recognition of genuine achievements.

However, membership of a well-known political family must not provide preferential access to awards, journalists, ceremonies, and public attention.

The higher the family’s political position, the more strictly the grounds for every new form of recognition must be examined.

An award presented to a person who already possesses power and prominence must be justified far more convincingly than the formal presentation of yet another honorary insignia.

Otherwise, public recognition becomes a form of political self-service.

Municipal authorities reward a politically convenient person.

Regional journalists transform the ceremony into a news story.

The party uses the publication as evidence of public support.

The family accumulates additional symbolic capital.

That capital is subsequently used as the basis for new appointments, new invitations, and new awards.

The circle then closes.

I have observed this process since 7 July 2006. I am genuinely ashamed to see modesty, equality, and respect for true merit give way to political vanity, family self-promotion, and an endless star shower of invented titles.

An award must elevate merit, not conceal its absence.

Honour must follow an outstanding achievement, not precede it.

Public recognition must belong to those who genuinely serve people, not to those who are more skilful than others at remaining close to cameras, party leaders, and award committees.

Until regional authorities and the mass media disclose the criteria, procedures, and relationships underlying the long-standing award-based glorification of the Gharahkhani family, this political star shower will inspire not admiration, but legitimate doubts concerning the objectivity, modesty, and fairness of the entire system of public recognition.

V. INTEGRATION AS A POLITICAL LIFT: THE INTERSECTION OF THE NORWEGIAN LABOUR AND WELFARE ADMINISTRATION, THE IMMIGRANT COUNCIL, MUNICIPAL AUTHORITY, AND THE LABOUR PARTY

The integration system exists to help individuals become independent citizens who are capable of exercising their rights freely, critically assessing the activities of the authorities, and making political decisions without dependence upon an official, social worker, public intermediary, or party functionary.

However, integration loses its democratic purpose if the structures intended to assist migrants are simultaneously used to accumulate personal influence, cultivate political gratitude, promote a particular party, and strengthen the position of one family.

It is precisely this risk that arises when examining the many years of activity undertaken by Bijan Gharahkhani.

According to the official page of the Labour Party in Øvre Eiker, Bijan Gharahkhani simultaneously served as a municipal politician, a member of the board of the Buskerud Labour Party, and the official responsible for integration within the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration in the municipality of Øvre Eiker.

In addition, for many years he headed the Buskerud Immigrant Council, participated in numerous municipal, public, and party structures, served on various councils and committees, and maintained a constant presence within the regional information environment.

Thus, for a prolonged period, the following roles intersected in one individual:

• governmental social work;

• direct interaction with newly arrived migrants;

• municipal politics;

• regional party leadership;

• representation of the interests of immigrant organisations;

• participation in the distribution of public attention;

• contacts with the mass media;

• access to numerous consultative and administrative structures.

Formally, each of these roles can be explained by the public activity of a single individual.

However, a democratic state is obliged to assess not only the legality of each position separately, but also the cumulative effect of concentrating such diverse powers and connections.

A Social Worker and Party Activist in One Person

An employee of the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration occupies a special position in relation to newly arrived people.

That employee understands how the system operates.

The employee helps to resolve matters concerning housing, social benefits, medical care, language instruction, children’s education, and contact with governmental institutions.

For a person who has only recently arrived in an unfamiliar country, such an employee may be perceived not as an ordinary civil servant, but as a representative of the state itself upon whom the future of the entire family depends.

It is precisely for this reason that social work requires particular political neutrality.

A newly arrived person must never have reason to suspect that assistance depends upon political views, participation in a public organisation, attendance at particular events, or a willingness to demonstrate gratitude towards a particular official.

Even if direct pressure never existed, the combination of a social position with active party involvement creates a structural risk of dependency.

Bijan Gharahkhani was not merely a social worker.

He was a municipal politician representing the Labour Party.

He served on the board of the Buskerud Labour Party.

He headed a major regional structure that claimed to represent the interests of numerous immigrant organisations.

He participated in public events, met journalists, and cultivated an image of himself as the region’s principal integration intermediary.

A fundamental question consequently arises: how was the boundary between his duties within the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration, party interests, municipal activity, and leadership of the Immigrant Council maintained in practice?

Did written rules exist prohibiting the use of professional contacts for party-political purposes?

Was any verification conducted to determine whether recipients of social and integration assistance were invited to events connected with the Labour Party?

Were contact lists compiled during integration work used exclusively for administrative purposes?

Were migrants informed that they were under no obligation to support the political party or public organisation of the individual who had assisted them during their first months of life in Norway?

Was an independent audit of the political neutrality of this system ever conducted?

Without answers to these questions, the assertion that no conflict of interest existed remains merely a convenient assumption.

Integration or the Cultivation of Political Gratitude?

A person who has received assistance in finding housing, completing documents, obtaining social support, and enrolling children in school naturally feels gratitude.

Gratitude is in itself a normal human emotion.

However, in politics, gratitude can be transformed into a resource.

If the same person who assisted a family within the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration is simultaneously a party politician, the head of a public organisation, and an influential representative of the immigrant community, recipients of that assistance may develop a sense of personal obligation.

They may subsequently be invited to a public event.

Representatives of the Labour Party appear at that event.

Speeches are then delivered about who assisted migrants and which political force protects their interests.

Afterwards, participants are reminded about elections, party candidates, and the importance of political participation.

Formally, no coercion takes place.

However, a connection gradually forms between administrative assistance, personal gratitude, and party loyalty.

This is how a patron-client system emerges: an influential intermediary helps a dependent group obtain access to public resources, while the group, in return, provides that intermediary with public support, political recognition, and votes.

I do not assert that Bijan Gharahkhani personally demanded votes for the Labour Party in exchange for social assistance. Such an allegation would require direct evidence.

However, the very structure of the combined roles created favourable conditions for the emergence of precisely such dependency.

Democracy is obliged to prevent not only proven abuse, but also the institutional conditions that make abuse possible.

The Buskerud Immigrant Council: Public Representation or a Personal Territory of Influence?

The Buskerud Immigrant Council presented itself as an umbrella organisation bringing together dozens of migrant associations and thousands of participants.

In 2022, it was reported that the structure united thirty-seven organisations with approximately three thousand members.

Leadership of an organisation of this scale provides substantial public capital.

Its chairperson gains the opportunity to speak on behalf of a large number of people, meet politicians, participate in consultations, organise events, apply for governmental support, and shape the public agenda.

The length of Bijan’s leadership raises particularly serious questions.

A publication on the Buskerud Immigrant Council’s own website stated in June 2020 that he had led the organisation for fourteen years and had been re-elected to begin his fifteenth year.

However, materials published in 2024 claimed that he had served as its leader for twenty-four years.

This chronology requires clarification.

If his fifteenth year of leadership began in 2020, the duration of his tenure could not automatically have become twenty-four years by 2024.

This may have resulted from an editorial error, different methods of calculating periods in office, or the inclusion of another period of activity. However, a public organisation is obliged to provide an accurate and consistent chronology of its own leadership.

Even biographical figures used for public glorification must be verified.

This is particularly important because the length of Bijan’s leadership is repeatedly used as proof of exceptional trust and of the magnitude of his achievements.

If that figure becomes the basis for awards, laudatory publications, and political authority, it must be supported by records of annual meetings and election results.

The following information must be published:

• the dates of every election and re-election;

• the composition of electoral and nomination committees;

• the names of alternative candidates;

• the results of all votes;

• lists of organisations entitled to vote;

• records of general meetings;

• information concerning the duration of each term of office;

• the reasons why the leader remained virtually irreplaceable.

In 2022, it was reported that a unanimous election committee had once again recommended Bijan and that no genuine contest for the senior position was expected.

However, unanimity is not always evidence of healthy democracy.

At times, it indicates an absence of competition, dependency among members of an organisation, a closed procedure, or an unwillingness to enter into conflict with a long-standing leader.

If an organisation is incapable of nominating an alternative candidate for twenty years, questions must be asked not only about the leader’s popularity, but also about the condition of its internal democracy.

The Concentration of Positions as an Independent Problem

In a list of his activities published in 2024, Bijan Gharahkhani stated that he had completed:

• twenty-one years as a permanent member of the Øvre Eiker Municipal Council;

• four years as a Substitute Member of the Storting;

• ten years as a member of the board of the Buskerud Labour Party;

• periods as head of local party associations in Skotselv and Hokksund;

• service on the municipal appeals board;

• participation in school cooperation bodies;

• service on the supervisory council for penal institutions;

• work as a lay judge;

• leadership of several immigrant and multicultural councils;

• participation in regional public campaigns;

• twenty-four years as head of the Buskerud Immigrant Council.

The list itself is used as evidence of exceptional public activity.

However, it can also be read differently.

What stands before us is an example of an extraordinary concentration of positions, committees, councils, and public functions around one individual.

How could one person perform such a large number of duties with quality and independence?

Did the responsibilities overlap?

Did conflicts of interest arise?

Was the authority derived from one position used to obtain another?

How was the actual effectiveness of the work in each area evaluated?

Were there periods during which several funded, administrative, party, or representative functions were performed simultaneously?

An excessive number of positions does not always indicate exceptional diligence. At times, it demonstrates the formation of a closed regional nomenclature in which the same individuals move from one council to another while mutually confirming their own indispensability.

The Family at Key Points Within the Integration System

Attention is drawn not only to Bijan’s activities, but also to the positioning of other family members within the same public system.

Bijan worked within the integration structure of the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration and headed the Immigrant Council.

Zahra Khalili worked for twenty-five years as a teacher within the adult education system of the municipality of Øvre Eiker.

Masud Gharahkhani developed his career within the Buskerud Labour Party and subsequently rose to the national parliament and the office of President of the Storting.

Thus, members of one family were positioned at several key points along the path followed by migrants:

• initial settlement and social assistance;

• linguistic and educational adaptation;

• public representation;

• regional party politics;

• national legislative authority.

This does not in itself prove coordination or abuse.

However, such a concentration requires considerably greater transparency than the activities of individuals who are not related to one another.

Were possible professional intersections examined?

Did the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration direct participants towards educational programmes in which Zahra Khalili worked?

Did students within the adult education system participate in events organised by the Immigrant Council?

Were representatives of the Labour Party invited to those events?

Were such platforms used to increase Masud’s political recognition?

Did other parties receive equal access to the same audiences?

Did written restrictions exist to prevent the use of educational and integration infrastructure in the interests of a single political family?

If everything occurred entirely lawfully and impartially, an independent audit should confirm this through documentary evidence.

Refusal to conduct such an examination only intensifies the doubts.

From the Father’s Public Network to the Son’s Political Rise

Masud Gharahkhani did not begin his political career in a public vacuum.

By the time he entered parliamentary politics, his father already possessed long-standing connections within the municipality, the Buskerud Labour Party, integration structures, migrant organisations, and the regional mass media.

He could introduce his son to the right people.

He could provide him with a presence at public events.

He could give him access to audiences that trusted the father as a social worker and integration intermediary.

He could use his accumulated authority to provide recommendations within the party.

I do not assert that all these opportunities were necessarily used improperly. However, it is impossible to conduct a serious analysis of Masud’s career while ignoring the network his father had already established.

Thousands of young people begin political activity without a parent who has spent decades serving on party boards, municipal bodies, and public organisations.

They are forced to find an audience independently, demonstrate their own competence, and fight for access to nomination procedures.

Masud began under fundamentally different conditions.

His political rise cannot honestly be presented as the story of a person who began from absolute zero.

He began within already established family political capital.

Constructive Requirements for an Independent Institutional Audit

To establish the facts and eliminate doubts, what is required is not a political dispute, but an independent audit.

The following matters must be examined:

1.   Every period during which Bijan simultaneously held positions within the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration, the municipal council, the Labour Party, and the Immigrant Council.

2.   Job descriptions, political neutrality rules, and declarations of conflicts of interest.

3.   The use of migrants’ contact details obtained through governmental work.

4.   The composition of participants at Immigrant Council events and the list of political parties invited to attend.

5.   The Council’s sources of funding, the amounts of governmental and municipal grants, and the verified results of every project.

6.   Complete financial reports, auditors’ opinions, and information concerning related organisations.

7.   Records of all elections for the Council’s leadership and an explanation of the contradictions concerning the duration of Bijan’s chairmanship.

8.   Possible referrals of participants from the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration to educational or public structures connected with members of the family.

9.   The participation of Zahra Khalili, Masud Gharahkhani, and other relatives in the events, financing, or administration of the relevant programmes.

10.                    Contacts between the Immigrant Council and the regional structures of the Labour Party.

11.                    Bijan’s role in Masud’s first party nominations.

12.                    The possible use of public events for party campaigning and political mobilisation.

13.                    Equal access by other political parties to migrant and educational platforms.

14.                    The results of an anonymous survey of former recipients of integration assistance concerning possible political pressure or an expectation of gratitude.

15.                    Every decision of municipal bodies in which Bijan participated despite a possible personal, family, party, or organisational interest.

Such an audit must not be conducted by the Labour Party itself, the municipality itself, or the organisation that Bijan headed for decades.

The examination must be conducted by an independent body unconnected with the regional party and administrative network.

Integration Must Liberate a Person, Not Transform That Person into a Political Client

The principal purpose of integration is not to ensure that a migrant remains grateful to a particular intermediary for the rest of his or her life.

Genuine integration teaches a person to interact with the state independently, defend his or her rights, choose a political party freely, and criticise the authorities without fear of losing assistance or public support.

If the integration system creates a dependent audience around one politician, it ceases to integrate.

It begins to reproduce clientelism.

If a public organisation becomes the permanent territory of influence of one leader, it ceases to represent diversity.

If a social position, party work, municipal authority, and leadership of a migrant organisation are concentrated in the same hands, the state is obliged to see not only an attractive story of public activity, but also an obvious risk of a conflict of interest.

If the son of that individual subsequently receives accelerated access to a party and parliamentary career, society has the full right to examine the entire chain of influence.

The problem is not that Bijan assisted migrants.

The problem arises if that assistance was simultaneously transformed into political capital.

The problem is not that he belonged to the Labour Party.

The problem arises if governmental and public infrastructure was used to strengthen party loyalty.

The problem is not that a father supported his son.

The problem arises if resources, connections, and audiences obtained through governmental and public positions were used to advance the son.

Until an independent audit is conducted, it is impossible to reach a definitive legal conclusion.

However, one point is already clear: such a prolonged and close intersection of social work, integration policy, public representation, party authority, and family political advancement must not remain beyond critical and institutional scrutiny.

Democracy begins where gratitude ceases to be a political obligation, a public organisation ceases to belong to one leader, and governmental assistance is not used to create family political capital.

VI. SOCIAL WORKER OR PARTY CAMPAIGNER? THE ALLEGED CULTIVATION OF THE LABOUR PARTY ELECTORATE THROUGH THE INTEGRATION SYSTEM

An employee of the public welfare system has no right to convert citizens’ institutional trust into political capital for his own party.

A person turns to the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration (NAV) not to be told which political force they should vote for. They go there to receive social, legal and administrative assistance provided by the state under the law and financed by all Norwegian taxpayers, irrespective of their political convictions.

Therefore, even a suspicion that a public welfare position has been used to cultivate party loyalty should become the subject of an immediate and independent investigation.

In the case of Bijan Gharahkhani, such a suspicion is not an abstract theoretical proposition.

The official Labour Party page in Øvre Eiker confirms that Bijan simultaneously served as an integration officer at NAV, a municipal politician and a board member of the Buskerud Labour Party.

It follows that a person who interacted professionally with newly arrived migrants and resettled persons also held positions within the political organisation that had a direct interest in securing their future votes.

The formal combination of these roles does not in itself prove abuse. However, it creates such an obvious conflict of political interests that the apparent absence of systematic oversight by NAV, the municipality and the supervisory authorities raises serious questions.

My Personal Observations Since 7 July 2006

I have lived in Norway since 7 July 2006 and, for twenty years, have observed the work of integration, public and political organisations in Buskerud and Øvre Eiker.

According to my personal observations, many migrants, particularly those who arrived from countries in the Middle East and Asia, were gradually encouraged to form the impression that almost everything positive in their lives in Norway was connected specifically with the Labour Party.

They were given to understand that the Labour Party protects migrants.

The Labour Party provides social support.

The Labour Party helps people obtain housing.

The Labour Party supports the admission of refugees.

The Labour Party protects diversity and provides political opportunities for people with migrant backgrounds.

At the same time, other parties were often portrayed as forces hostile to migrants: parties that opposed their admission, sought to restrict their social rights and threatened their future residence in the country.

Such a simplified contrast is extremely advantageous to one political party.

It turns a complex democratic choice into an emotional formula:

The Labour Party helped you — therefore, you must support the Labour Party.

I emphasise that my observations and assessment are not a substitute for an official investigation. Establishing specific individual incidents would require interviews with former recipients of integration assistance, an examination of official correspondence, the content of events, lists of invited politicians and the use of professional contacts.

Yet the very absence of such scrutiny over several decades is part of the problem.

How the Mechanism of Political Conditioning May Operate

The alleged mechanism does not require a direct instruction to vote for a particular party.

It operates far more subtly.

First, a newly arrived family finds itself completely dependent on the state system.

The family does not know the language.

It does not understand the law.

It is unfamiliar with the social benefits system.

It does not know how to obtain housing, medical care, a school place or access to language courses.

An integration worker then appears and becomes the intermediary between the family and the state.

He helps resolve the family’s basic practical problems.

He is trusted.

He is thanked.

He is regarded as the person without whom a normal beginning to life in Norway would have been impossible.

Later, the same intermediary appears in a different capacity — as a municipal politician, the leader of a public organisation or a representative of the Labour Party.

The migrant is invited to public meetings, integration conferences, cultural celebrations and dialogue events.

Party politicians are present at these events.

Speeches are made about solidarity, the protection of migrants and the Labour Party’s role in creating the welfare state.

Gradually, state assistance becomes psychologically associated not with the Constitution, the law and the obligations of a politically neutral administration, but with a specific party and specific individuals.

Citizens are thereby encouraged to accept the false idea that their social rights are a gift from the Labour Party.

But social assistance does not belong to any political party.

Housing is not provided from the personal funds of a party official.

NAV’s work is not financed by the Labour Party.

Schools, hospitals, language courses and municipal programmes are financed by the people of Norway and belong to society as a whole.

The appropriation by one party of the state’s achievements is a form of political manipulation.

The Open Nature of the Alleged Conflict and the Absence of Proper Oversight

What is particularly disturbing is that Bijan’s combination of roles was not concealed.

He openly presented himself simultaneously as an employee of NAV’s integration system, a municipal politician, a member of the Labour Party’s governing structures and the long-serving chairman of the Buskerud Immigrant Council.

Each of these positions gave him a separate source of influence.

At NAV — trust and access to newly arrived people.

At the Immigrant Council — the opportunity to speak on behalf of numerous organisations.

On the municipal council — administrative and political status.

Within the Labour Party — access to party structures and candidate-promotion procedures.

In the media — the opportunity to shape his own public image and present political activity as selfless public service.

This concentration of influence occurred openly and almost demonstratively.

The question therefore arises: why did the municipal administration fail to recognise the risk?

Why did NAV’s management not require a strict and documented separation between his public welfare duties and his party-political activities?

Why did the municipality’s supervisory bodies not conduct a special investigation?

Why did journalists not examine how political neutrality was maintained in communications with migrants?

Why did law-enforcement and supervisory authorities show no visible interest in the possible use of professional contacts, public working hours, premises, participant lists and integration events?

The absence of published information about an investigation does not prove that violations actually occurred. It does, however, demonstrate the absence of visible public scrutiny of an obvious conflict of roles.

What the Results of the 8 September 2025 Election Actually Show

Norway’s parliamentary election took place on 8 September 2025.

The Labour Party became the largest political force, receiving 28.0 per cent of the vote and 902,296 votes.

Accuracy is essential: the party did not obtain an absolute majority of either the votes or the seats in the Storting. It won 53 of the 169 parliamentary seats. The broader red-green bloc retained a parliamentary majority.

It is therefore legally and politically incorrect to claim that the Labour Party alone secured the support of a majority of the entire Norwegian electorate.

Nevertheless, official data from Statistics Norway confirm an important difference in the political preferences of different population groups.

According to Statistics Norway table 11729, support for the Labour Party in the 2025 election was distributed as follows:

Voter group

Support for the Labour Party

All voters

28 per cent

Immigrants from Asia, Africa, Latin America and Eastern European countries outside the European Union

39 per cent

Norwegian-born children of immigrants from the same regions

29 per cent

The remainder of the population

27 per cent

Among immigrants from the listed regions, support for the Labour Party was therefore eleven percentage points higher than its nationwide result and twelve percentage points higher than among the remainder of the population.

This is a significant difference.

It confirms that this group of voters is of particular political importance to the Labour Party.

At the same time, the statistics do not provide separate data for people originating from the Middle East, do not reveal individual voting motivations and do not prove that a specific social worker influenced a specific person’s electoral choice.

Furthermore, turnout in the 2025 election was 56 per cent among immigrants, 60 per cent among Norwegian-born children of immigrants and 83 per cent among Norwegians without a migrant background.

It would therefore be dishonest to attribute the Labour Party’s entire electoral success exclusively to migrant votes.

However, such a marked increase in support within a particular group raises a legitimate research question: through which political, social and institutional mechanisms was this long-term loyalty cultivated?

Geographical Statistics: An Important Limitation on the Accusatory Interpretation

Regional election results must also be considered without manipulation.

In Oslo, the Labour Party received 25.7 per cent, which was below its national result.

In Buskerud, the party received 29.4 per cent and 44,347 votes, only slightly exceeding its national result.

In the municipality of Øvre Eiker, the Labour Party received 26.6 per cent and 3,116 votes. The Progress Party came first there with 34.4 per cent.

In Hokksund, the Labour Party’s result was 31.2 per cent.

In Skotselv, it was 23.1 per cent.

These figures do not support a claim of the Labour Party’s unconditional dominance in the municipality where Bijan Gharahkhani was active for decades.

On the contrary, in Øvre Eiker the Labour Party lost to the Progress Party, which takes a considerably stricter position on migration.

The statistics therefore do not allow Bijan’s activities to be declared a proven cause of the parliamentary election result.

But nor do they eliminate the question of whether it is permissible to use social welfare and integration infrastructure for party-political purposes.

Even if political conditioning did not produce an absolute local majority for the party, the possible misuse of a public position still requires investigation.

An unsuccessful or only partially successful conflict of interest does not cease to be a conflict of interest.

Increased Support Does Not Prove Manipulation, but Its Causes Require Investigation

Voters with migrant backgrounds are not a passive mass without individual agency.

Every person has the right independently to support the Labour Party, the Progress Party, the Conservative Party, the Socialist Left Party or any other lawful political force.

Strong support for the Labour Party may be explained by its social policies, trade-union connections, attitude towards the welfare state, position on discrimination, choice of candidates or historical party identity.

A migrant’s vote therefore cannot automatically be treated as the result of manipulation.

However, it would be equally wrong to prohibit research into the possible influence of public officials and representatives of community organisations.

If migrants were systematically told that only one party was their protector while all the others represented a threat, this would no longer constitute neutral civic information.

If a party politician used the authority of a social worker to strengthen confidence in his own party, this would constitute an abuse of institutional position.

If official contacts, events, premises, working hours or databases were used for party-political mobilisation, such actions would require legal assessment.

Legal and Ethical Grounds for an Investigation

Norway’s public administration is founded on the principles of objectivity, impartiality and public trust.

Official ethical rules require that a public employee’s personal interests must not influence the performance of official duties.

The rules on impartiality apply not only to the person who makes the final administrative decision but also to those who prepare the case or participate in its consideration.

Party membership does not in itself prevent a person from working within the state or municipal system.

However, party-political activities must be strictly separated from the exercise of public functions.

If an official role was used to provide a political advantage to the employee’s own party or to a member of his family, it would be necessary to assess:

• whether the requirements of impartiality were observed;

• whether a conflict of interest arose;

• whether public resources were used for unauthorised purposes;

• whether personal-data processing rules were violated;

• whether improper influence was exerted over the political freedom of recipients of assistance;

• whether grounds existed for a disciplinary, administrative or criminal investigation.

Only the competent authorities may make a final legal determination after examining the evidence.

Yet refusing to investigate on the grounds that no criminal offence has already been proven reverses the entire logic of public oversight.

The very purpose of an investigation is to establish whether a violation occurred.

Which Authorities Should Conduct the Investigation

An investigation into the alleged use of the integration system for party-political purposes should be carried out in stages.

The following measures are required:

1.   Conduct an independent internal audit of NAV in Øvre Eiker covering the periods during which Bijan Gharahkhani worked there.

2.   Examine his official duties, professional correspondence, meeting calendars and participation in events.

3.   Verify the separation between his working hours, party-political activities and work for the Buskerud Immigrant Council.

4.   Establish whether official premises, telephones, transport, contact lists or other public resources were used.

5.   Verify compliance with personal-data protection requirements.

6.   Interview former recipients of integration assistance under conditions of confidentiality.

7.   Establish whether they were encouraged to join public organisations, attend party events or support particular candidates.

8.   Analyse which politicians were invited to integration and community events.

9.   Determine whether other parties were given equal opportunities to present their programmes.

10.                    Examine the financing of events used for political mobilisation.

11.                    Investigate the role of the Buskerud Immigrant Council in Labour Party election campaigns.

12.                    Establish whether the Council’s network was used to support the candidacies of Bijan or Masud Gharahkhani.

13.                    Conduct a municipal supervisory audit of potential conflicts of interest.

14.                    Refer the material to law-enforcement authorities only if specific indications are identified of the misuse of funds, abuse of official authority, improper handling of personal data or another violation of the law.

15.                    Publish a reasoned report while protecting the personal data of recipients of social assistance.

Such an approach would be both rigorous and fair.

It would not declare anyone guilty in advance, but nor would it allow a closed system to investigate itself through a purely formal response.

Integration Must Not Become a Concealed Election Campaign

The state has the right to explain the functioning of democracy to new citizens.

It should explain the electoral system, human rights, equality before the law and the opportunities available for participation in political life.

However, a public employee has no right to turn civic education into advertising for his own party.

Migrants should receive an objective explanation of the positions of all the principal political forces.

They must be told that access to public services does not depend on how they vote.

They should know that they have the right to criticise the Labour Party, vote for its opponents or refuse to disclose their political choice altogether.

No social worker should personally appropriate gratitude that rightfully belongs to the Norwegian state and society as a whole.

No party should present social rights as its personal gift to the voter.

No family should be permitted to turn integration infrastructure into an inherited political base.

If Bijan Gharahkhani used his position as a social worker deliberately to cultivate an electorate for the Labour Party, this would not constitute public service. It would constitute the political exploitation of the dependent position of newly arrived migrants.

If this did not happen, an independent audit would dispel the suspicions and protect the reputation of the integration system itself.

But continued administrative silence is unacceptable.

Official statistics confirm increased support for the Labour Party among immigrants from Asia, Africa, Latin America and Eastern European countries outside the European Union. They do not prove Bijan’s individual responsibility, but they demonstrate the political value of this group to the party in whose regional governing structures he served.

That is precisely why the conflict of interest cannot be ignored.

Public assistance should create a free citizen, not a grateful party voter.

A social worker must serve the law, not an election headquarters.

An integration centre must be a space of political freedom, not a vote factory.

And if the state, municipal and law-enforcement authorities are genuinely confident in the integrity of this system, they must demonstrate it not through words but through an independent, transparent and fully documented investigation.

VII. PATERNAL MENTORSHIP AND FAMILY POLITICAL CAPITAL: HOW BIJAN GHARAHKHANI MAY HAVE CREATED THE CONDITIONS FOR MASUD’S ADVANCEMENT

Democratic office must not be passed down as an inheritance.

Party representation is not family property.

A position on a municipal council, an electoral list or in the Storting must not become the result of a father having accumulated in advance for his son the necessary connections, public recognition, the trust of particular groups of voters and access to party leaders.

A parent has the right to help his child, offer advice and support his professional ambitions. However, when that parent is simultaneously a municipal politician, a party official, an employee of the state integration system and the head of a major public organisation, his assistance ceases to be an exclusively private family matter.

It acquires public and political significance.

That is precisely why Masud Gharahkhani’s political career cannot be considered entirely separately from the many years of activity of his father, Bijan Gharahkhani.

To claim in advance that Bijan personally secured every position for his son would be legally unfounded. But it would be equally unfounded to pretend that the political infrastructure created by the father could have played no role whatsoever in the son’s advancement.

The Documented Sequence

Bijan Gharahkhani’s official biography on the Storting’s website confirms that he served as the fourth Substitute Member of Parliament for Buskerud for the Labour Party during the 2005–2009 parliamentary term. Official biography of Bijan Gharahkhani

Masud Gharahkhani’s official biography shows the following sequence:

• Substitute Member of Parliament no. 3 for Buskerud in 2009–2013;

• Member of Parliament no. 8 for Buskerud in 2017–2021;

• Member of Parliament no. 1 for Buskerud in 2021–2025;

• Member of Parliament no. 1 for Buskerud in 2025–2029;

• President of the Storting from 25 November 2021;

• renewed tenure as President of the Storting from 10 October 2025.
  Official biography of Masud Gharahkhani

This chronology deserves attention.

The father’s parliamentary term ended in 2009.

In that same year, the son’s first parliamentary term began as a Substitute Member of Parliament for the same electoral district and the same Labour Party.

This sequence does not in itself prove an organised transfer of a political position. It does not permit a claim that the outcome of the party nomination process was unlawfully determined by Bijan.

But it raises a legitimate question:

Was Masud’s entry into parliamentary politics exclusively the result of his independent abilities, or was he assisted by the party, public and electoral capital already accumulated by his father?

This question cannot be answered through family interviews, emotional recollections or celebratory newspaper articles.

The answer must be found in the documents.

The minutes of party meetings, decisions of nomination committees, lists of voting participants, correspondence within the regional branch of the Labour Party, recommendations submitted in support of Masud and Bijan’s role during his son’s initial nomination must all be examined.

Political Capital Is Created Long Before a Position Is Obtained

Political advancement does not begin when a person is formally placed on an electoral list.

It begins much earlier.

A future candidate is given public visibility.

He is introduced to party leaders.

He is provided with opportunities to speak at meetings.

He is invited to public events.

He is presented as a promising young politician.

A favourable biographical image is constructed around him.

Party activists are told why this particular person should be given a place on the list.

Public organisations provide him with an audience.

Local media transform his origins and family history into a political symbol.

When all these elements are combined, the official nomination becomes merely the final stage of a lengthy preparatory process.

Bijan Gharahkhani possessed several potential sources of such influence at the same time.

The Labour Party’s page in Øvre Eiker states that he was simultaneously a member of the municipal council, a board member of the Buskerud Labour Party and the officer responsible for integration at NAV in Øvre Eiker.

In addition, Bijan headed the Buskerud Immigrant Council for many years — an organisation representing numerous associations of residents with migrant backgrounds.

Taken together, this gave him access to four different environments:

• the state integration system;

• municipal politics;

• the regional structures of the Labour Party;

• the network of migrant public organisations.

Such a concentration of contacts, trust and organisational opportunities constitutes a significant political resource.

It is not in itself a criminal offence.

However, it cannot be treated as irrelevant when analysing the rapid advancement of an immediate family member.

Paternal Mentorship or the Creation of Preferential Conditions?

A father involved in politics inevitably passes on knowledge about the internal workings of the party to his son.

He explains whom to approach.

Whom to support.

Which meetings to attend.

Which issues are likely to be received favourably by the party leadership.

How candidate lists are formed.

How relations with journalists are established.

How a public biography can be used to strengthen one’s own political image.

An ordinary young party member acquires such knowledge over many years through mistakes, setbacks and independent work.

The son of an experienced party figure receives it within the family.

This is not prohibited by law in itself. However, such an advantage must be acknowledged honestly, particularly when the public is presented with a simplified story about a person who allegedly rose exclusively through his own abilities and personal effort.

Masud’s political biography did not emerge in a vacuum.

Before him, his father was already present within the structures of the Buskerud Labour Party.

Before the son appeared on parliamentary lists, the father already possessed party connections.

Before Masud became a national political figure, Bijan had already spent many years working with migrant associations, municipal institutions and the local media.

The question, therefore, is not whether a father loved his son and wanted him to succeed. That is natural and does not require a public investigation.

What requires examination is something else:

Did Bijan use his public, official or party-political authority to create advantages for Masud that were unavailable to other candidates?

The Immigrant Council as a Public Organisation or a Family Political Platform?

The activities of the Buskerud Immigrant Council deserve particular attention.

According to published information, by 2022 Bijan had already headed the Council for approximately twenty-one years. In that same year, the Council presented its annual “Bridge Builder” Award to Masud Gharahkhani. Publication concerning Bijan’s re-election and the award presented to Masud

This circumstance must not be presented as proof of a prearranged family award.

The published information does not establish who nominated Masud, who made the final decision, whether Bijan participated in the discussion and voting, or whether he recused himself.

But that is precisely why transparency is required.

The public has the right to receive answers to specific questions:

• who nominated Masud;

• which written criteria were used to select the recipient;

• who served on the committee or other body that made the decision;

• whether Bijan participated in discussing the candidacy of his own son;

• whether he declared a conflict of interest;

• whether there were other candidates;

• which specific achievements of Masud were compared with those of the other candidates;

• whether minutes of the vote exist;

• whether the award was financed through state, municipal or private funds;

• whether the award was used in party-political or media promotion.

If a father heads an organisation for twenty-one years and that organisation presents an award to his son, a declaration of noble intentions is not sufficient.

In a democratic society, it is necessary not only to ensure the actual absence of favouritism, but also to avoid a reasonable appearance that favouritism may have occurred.

Recusal, transparent criteria, an independent selection committee and publication of the minutes would have protected the reputations of everyone involved.

If such safeguards did not exist, a serious problem of public trust arises.

A public organisation must not be transformed into a mechanism for mutual family glorification.

Migrant Representation Does Not Belong to One Family

Neither Bijan nor Masud possesses an exclusive right to speak on behalf of all migrants in Norway.

The country’s migrant population consists of people with different origins, levels of education, religious beliefs, political views and life experiences.

Some of them support the Labour Party.

Others support the Conservative Party, the Progress Party, the Socialist Left Party and other political forces.

Some do not trust any party.

There are migrants who disagree with Masud Gharahkhani’s own political positions.

When one family remains present for decades simultaneously within integration institutions, public councils, party structures, municipal politics and the national parliament, there is a danger that a diverse community may be replaced by a single family political brand.

Criticism of this situation is not criticism of migrants.

On the contrary, it protects the right of every migrant to have an independent voice and not to be represented automatically by people whom that individual did not elect to lead public organisations or to speak on his or her behalf.

Masud’s origins do not exempt him from professional criticism.

A migrant biography is not evidence of political competence.

Family history is no substitute for knowledge of economics, law, public administration, international relations and security.

A politician’s symbolic importance must not be used as protection against scrutiny of the substance of his work.

High Office Does Not in Itself Prove High Competence

Masud Gharahkhani has attained one of Norway’s highest public offices.

But the status of the office itself does not prove that the person holding it possesses profound knowledge in every field connected with that position.

A party majority is capable of electing someone to high office.

The media are capable of creating an attractive public image for him.

Ceremonial speeches are capable of producing a favourable emotional impression.

Professional competence, however, is determined neither by ceremonial speeches nor by the number of photographs taken with foreign politicians, nor by the repetition of general phrases about democracy.

It is determined by substance.

In my critical assessment, Masud’s public image is too often built upon symbolic speeches, his family biography, the story of integration and broad political formulas. The public is presented far less frequently with a serious analysis of his independent knowledge and achievements in economics, constitutional law, public administration, foreign policy and international security.

This is an evaluative judgement that must be tested not through personal sympathies or insults, but through objective analysis.

The following should be examined:

• legislative initiatives personally authored by Masud;

• the substance of his parliamentary speeches;

• the complexity and independence of the questions he has raised;

• his participation in preparing committee reports;

• specific proposals in the field of economics;

• positions concerning constitutional oversight;

• his understanding of the limits of the President of the Storting’s authority;

• the quality of his statements on international and military-political issues;

• his ability to answer direct critical questions without retreating into general formulas;

• the relationship between substantive work and media visibility.

If such an analysis confirms a high level of competence, it will constitute an argument in Masud’s favour.

If, however, the public image is found to exceed the underlying substance significantly, society will have the right to ask which mechanisms allowed political reputation to replace professional capability.

A political hat may prove too large for the person wearing it if its size was determined not by the scale of his knowledge, but by the strength of the party machine and accumulated family capital.

Party Loyalty Must Not Replace Competitive Selection

The Labour Party has the right to support its own candidates.

But it must explain to society which qualities provide certain individuals with decades-long political careers while other party activists remain outside electable positions.

In Masud’s case, it is necessary to establish:

• who initially proposed his candidacy;

• what role Bijan played in that process;

• who supported Masud within the Buskerud Labour Party;

• whether the contacts of the Immigrant Council were used;

• whether party delegates were mobilised in an organised manner;

• whether Masud received advantages because of his father’s public recognition;

• whether other young candidates were given equal access to nomination;

• whether the possible family conflict of interest was discussed within the party;

• which objective criteria of competence were applied;

• to what extent the decision was determined by the candidate’s professional qualities and to what extent by his symbolic and electoral usefulness.

It is especially important to examine party records from 2008–2009, when Bijan’s parliamentary term was ending and Masud’s first parliamentary term was beginning.

The subsequent nomination periods of 2017, 2021 and 2025 must also be examined.

The repeated placement of one person in leading positions on a party list may be the result of confidence on the part of voters and the party.

But where a family political history exists, this requires a higher, not a lower, level of transparency.

What the Chronology Proves and What It Does Not Prove

The chronology proves the following facts:

1.   Bijan represented the Labour Party as a Substitute Member of Parliament for Buskerud in 2005–2009.

2.   Masud became a Substitute Member of Parliament for Buskerud for the same party in 2009–2013.

3.   Bijan possessed connections within municipal politics, NAV, the regional party structure and migrant organisations.

4.   Masud subsequently obtained a permanent parliamentary mandate and became President of the Storting.

5.   The Immigrant Council, which Bijan headed for many years, presented an award to Masud in 2022.

However, this chronology does not yet prove:

1.   that Bijan unlawfully determined the outcome of the party nomination process;

2.   that he pressured migrants to vote for his son;

3.   that he used NAV personal data in Masud’s interests;

4.   that the decision to present the award to his son was made personally by Bijan;

5.   that Masud did not receive a single vote as a result of his own actions;

6.   that each of his appointments was the direct result of family intervention.

It is precisely this distinction that makes the criticism legally serious.

We are not required to declare in advance that which remains to be established through documentary evidence.

But nor are we required to accept an official biographical legend on trust and ignore the obvious intersection of family, party, public and state connections.

An Independent Audit of Family Political Advancement Is Required

An objective answer requires the following measures:

1.   Obtain the minutes of the Buskerud Labour Party’s nomination meetings for 2008–2009, 2016–2017, 2020–2021 and 2024–2025.

2.   Establish whether Bijan participated in discussions concerning and support for Masud’s candidacies.

3.   Examine correspondence within the party bodies relating to the son’s initial nomination.

4.   Analyse the participation of representatives of migrant organisations in the party nomination processes.

5.   Establish whether the Immigrant Council’s network was used for political mobilisation.

6.   Verify whether Bijan’s activities at NAV, within the Labour Party and in public organisations were kept separate.

7.   Obtain the documents relating to the presentation of the “Bridge Builder” Award to Masud in 2022.

8.   Establish whether Bijan recused himself when the award to his son was discussed.

9.   Compare the extent of Masud’s media promotion with that of other Buskerud Labour Party candidates.

10.                    Conduct a substantive analysis of Masud’s parliamentary work, separating actual results from his symbolic public image.

11.                    Give Bijan and Masud the right to respond to every specific question.

12.                    Publish a documentary, evidence-based conclusion without predetermined guilt and without party-political interference.

Politics Must Not Become a Family Inheritance

The central problem is not that a father advised his son.

The problem arises when private mentorship may be backed by public resources, institutional trust, party connections and long-term control over organisations representing thousands of people.

If Masud attained every position exclusively through his own abilities, an open investigation will not harm him.

On the contrary, it will strengthen his legitimacy.

If Bijan never used his position at NAV, his standing within the Labour Party or his leadership of the Immigrant Council to advance his son, the documents should confirm this.

If the decision to honour Masud was made independently, the procedure should be published and it should be demonstrated that the father did not participate in creating an advantage for his own son.

But if it is established that public organisations were used over many years to construct family political capital, this will no longer be a matter of natural parental support.

It will be a matter of favouritism.

Of converting public trust into a family resource.

Of a party system in which descent from an influential activist may be more important than open competition, independent knowledge and professional capability.

Norwegian democracy must not be afraid of these questions.

A genuine democracy does not investigate only its opponents.

It first and foremost scrutinises those who are inside the system of power and benefit from its protection.

Bijan Gharahkhani had the right to engage in politics.

Masud Gharahkhani had the right to build his own career.

But society has an equal right to establish where the son’s independent career ended and the father’s political capital began.

Until this boundary has been examined through documentary evidence, the celebratory story of Masud’s independent rise remains only one version of events.

Political influence must not be inherited in silence.

Party connections must not be transformed into a family privilege.

Public organisations must not honour relatives of their leaders without complete transparency.

And the highest offices of state must not serve as an impenetrable shield against critical analysis of the path by which a person reached them.

VIII. THE MEDIA FACTORY OF TITLES AND FAMILY GLORIFICATION: HOW NEWSPAPERS, MUNICIPAL AWARDS AND PUBLIC ORGANISATIONS CREATED THE GHARAHKHANI POLITICAL BRAND

An award is not proof of greatness.

A newspaper readers’ poll is not a decision made by society as a whole.

A municipal prize does not automatically confirm the exceptional nature of a person’s achievements.

A ceremonial jury statement consisting of emotional superlatives is no substitute for a list of specific results.

Nevertheless, over the course of many years, Bijan and Masud Gharahkhani have been surrounded by a veritable cascade of titles, prizes, celebratory publications and symbolic awards.

Each new title reinforced the previous one.

A newspaper referred to a politician’s public profile.

A public organisation referred to his media image.

A municipal jury repeated formulations about “building bridges”, “diversity” and a “unique contribution”.

These awards were subsequently incorporated into public biographies and used as confirmation of supposedly indisputable public recognition.

This creates a closed circle:

a person is rewarded because he is famous and is subsequently declared outstanding because he has already received awards.

Such a mechanism does not prove the existence of a criminal conspiracy among politicians, journalists and award organisers.

But it creates an artificially enhanced public image that may substantially exceed the recipient’s actual and measurable achievements.

Bijan Gharahkhani — “Person of the Year” According to a 2006 Readers’ Poll

The earlier chronological confusion must be corrected precisely.

Bijan Gharahkhani was declared “Årets navn” — “Name of the Year” or “Person of the Year” — not in the pandemic year of 2020, but for 2006.

A publication dated 1 January 2007 reported that Bijan had been one of the candidates and had won the poll organised by Drammens Tidende. In his own comments, he emphasised that he had been pleased merely to be nominated and was especially pleased to have won. Publication concerning Bijan’s “Årets navn” title

However, the publication does not answer the principal questions.

How many people participated in the poll?

How many votes did Bijan receive?

Who were the other candidates?

Who determined the list of candidates?

On what grounds was he included on that list?

Could one person vote more than once?

How was the authenticity of the votes verified?

Were the networks of the Buskerud Immigrant Council, the Labour Party, religious associations or municipal organisations used to mobilise voters?

How many publications were devoted to each candidate before the voting ended?

Were all participants given equal opportunities to present their achievements?

Without this information, it is impossible to establish whether the victory reflected the views of a significant proportion of the region’s population or the organised activity of the most disciplined group of supporters.

A readers’ poll shows who managed to mobilise the largest number of votes within a particular newspaper procedure.

It does not establish a person’s objective value to society.

It does not compare the actual results of his work with the activities of doctors, teachers, rescue workers, scientists, volunteers, municipal service employees and other residents of the region.

It does not give a newspaper the right to transform the winner of its own competition into the universally recognised representative of society as a whole.

Drammens Tidende could call Bijan the winner of its readers’ poll.

But presenting that title as universal public recognition without disclosing the full procedure, the number of votes and the list of candidates constitutes media exaggeration.

Masud Gharahkhani — “Person of the Year” During the Pandemic

The pandemic-era title related not to Bijan, but to Masud Gharahkhani.

According to a publication dated 3 January 2022, Drammens Tidende declared Masud “Årets navn” for 2021. Publication concerning Masud’s 2021 title

This occurred during a period when the coronavirus pandemic was continuing and healthcare workers, nursing-home employees, paramedics, hospital orderlies, teachers, drivers, shop workers and municipal service employees were performing work every day that directly placed their health at risk.

Masud himself publicly stated that the people working on the front line of the pandemic deserved the “Person of the Year” title.

That acknowledgement only intensifies the moral contradiction.

If the frontline workers genuinely deserved the award more, why did the title remain with Masud?

Why did he not decline it?

Why did he not propose transferring the award to an association representing healthcare workers?

Why did he not ask the newspaper to declare doctors, nurses, nursing-home employees and emergency service personnel the collective winners?

A person is under no legal obligation to decline a newspaper title awarded to him.

But a moral assessment is not limited to the question of legal obligation.

It is possible to say the right words about the heroes of the pandemic while simultaneously retaining the award.

Words, however, do not alter the result of the poll.

The title remained associated with Masud’s name.

The publications, photographs and subsequent biographical references continued to benefit his political reputation rather than the reputations of the unnamed frontline workers.

Healthcare workers received a formula of gratitude.

The politician received the title.

That is precisely why the editorial decision of Drammens Tidende deserves severe criticism.

The newspaper was obliged to understand the historical and moral context of 2021.

The editorial board should have explained which exceptional actions by Masud were more important than the daily work of people who were protecting the health and lives of the population.

Obtaining a high parliamentary office in November 2021 did not in itself make a politician the most important person of the entire year.

Election as President of the Storting is a political and parliamentary event.

But it is not an act of heroism.

It does not involve placing one’s own life at risk.

It cannot automatically be placed above the work of those serving in infectious-disease wards, ambulances and institutions caring for elderly people.

Two Consecutive Titles for Masud Require Even Greater Transparency

In his own public statement, Masud thanked readers for declaring him “Årets navn” for 2022 and specifically noted that the same thing had happened in 2021. Masud’s public statement concerning the 2022 title

The same serving politician, holding one of the highest offices of state, therefore received the same regional readers’ title for two consecutive years.

This cannot remain beyond critical scrutiny.

Were the voting rules identical in 2021 and 2022?

How many people voted in each year?

To what extent did the lists of candidates differ?

Was one person permitted to win repeatedly?

Did the newspaper consider limiting the participation of a previous winner so that the competition would not become an annual confirmation of the popularity of the same politician?

Was there an organised mobilisation of supporters through party pages and public networks?

How many editorial articles about Masud were published before the poll compared with the number of articles about his competitors?

Two consecutive victories do not prove two consecutive years of exceptional public achievement.

They may primarily demonstrate the durability of a media profile, the strength of a political brand and the ability of supporters to mobilise repeatedly.

If Drammens Tidende wishes to present these results as objective public recognition, the newspaper must publish the complete data from both polls.

The formula “the readers decided” is insufficient.

Readers make their decision only within the procedure created by the editorial board.

The editorial board chooses the format.

The editorial board establishes the rules.

The editorial board determines the candidates or the mechanism for nominating them.

The editorial board decides how much attention each participant will receive.

The editorial board controls the technical voting system.

The editorial board is therefore responsible for the resulting media outcome.

The 2011 Municipal “Values Prize”: General Words Instead of Measurable Results

In February 2011, Bijan Gharahkhani received the Øvre Eiker “Verdipris”, or “Values Prize”.

The publication states that the prize was connected with his work with children and young people from migrant backgrounds, while representatives of the organisers described him as a “bridge builder”. Publication concerning the 2011 prize

But here, too, a significant amount of information required for an objective assessment is absent.

Who nominated Bijan?

Who else was nominated for the award?

Who served on the body that made the decision?

How were the political and professional connections between members of the jury and the candidate addressed?

Which specific programmes did he create?

How many children and young people participated in them?

Which measurable changes occurred as a result of this work?

Which budgetary funds were used?

What proportion of the work was performed personally by Bijan, and what proportion was carried out by municipal employees, teachers, volunteers and public organisations?

Why was the collective work of many people personalised and transformed into an individual award for the most publicly visible person?

The phrase “bridge builder” sounds impressive.

But it is not a unit by which public benefit can be measured.

It can be applied to practically any activity involving meetings, conferences, celebrations and dialogue events.

If reports, indicators and independent evaluation are absent from behind the ceremonial formula, the prize becomes symbolic confirmation of an already constructed public image.

The 2024 Cultural Prize: Why Was Integration Work Transformed into Exceptional Cultural Achievement?

In January 2025, Bijan received the Øvre Eiker Cultural Prize for 2024.

The published jury statement explained that the prize was intended for particularly outstanding achievements in art, culture, cultural heritage, sport or outdoor activities. Nevertheless, Bijan’s award was again based on diversity, inclusion, dialogue and “building bridges”. Publication concerning the 2024 Cultural Prize

A direct question therefore arises:

Which specific outstanding works of art, cultural projects, cultural heritage assets, sporting achievements or programmes were created personally by Bijan?

The jury statement used exceptionally strong superlatives.

His contribution was portrayed as invaluable.

He was credited with an entirely unique ability to bring people together.

But how was this uniqueness measured?

With whom was the candidate compared?

Which artists, musicians, museum employees, local historians, theatre-group leaders, coaches, representatives of sporting organisations or defenders of cultural heritage were also considered for the prize?

Why was the work of a professional integration employee and long-standing politician regarded as more outstanding than that of people directly engaged in creating culture?

If the concept of culture is expanded so broadly that it encompasses any form of public activity, the municipal jury acquires practically unlimited freedom to reward a preselected well-known individual.

In that situation, it is not the result that becomes decisive, but the candidate’s reputational image.

The following must be published:

• all nominations received;

• the names of the jury members;

• any political connections of the jury members;

• the assessment criteria;

• the voting results;

• a reasoned comparison of the candidates;

• information concerning recusals;

• information concerning the financing of the prize and the ceremony.

Until this information is disclosed, ceremonial superlatives do not permit the objectivity of the decision to be verified.

Biographical Inflation: How Many Years Did Bijan Actually Lead the Immigrant Council?

The contradictions in the published duration of Bijan’s leadership of the Buskerud Immigrant Council create an especially serious problem.

In 2020, the Council’s own website stated that Bijan had fourteen years of leadership experience and was beginning his fifteenth year following his re-election. Buskerud Immigrant Council website

A 2022 publication claimed that he had already led the Council for twenty-one years. 2022 publication

In 2024, it was reported that Bijan had left the leadership position after serving as chairman for twenty-four years. Publication concerning his departure in 2024

Finally, the statement supporting the 2024 Cultural Prize claimed that he had led the Council for “almost thirty years”.

These versions cannot all be accepted as accurate simultaneously.

If 2020 marked the beginning of his fifteenth year of leadership, his chairmanship must have commenced around 2006.

If twenty-one years had elapsed by 2022, the starting point would have been approximately 2001.

If twenty-four years had elapsed by 2024, the starting point would have been around 2000.

The formula “almost thirty years”, used in 2025, moves the beginning of his leadership even further back — to the middle or latter half of the 1990s.

It is possible that some publications counted his membership of the Council, while others counted his time in the leadership position.

But the texts refer directly to his leadership.

The matter therefore concerns either systematic editorial negligence or a gradual increase in his biographical record as Bijan’s media image grew.

Neither is acceptable.

If even the principal biographical figure concerning the recipient was not verified, how carefully were the other claims about his achievements examined?

The Cultural Prize jury should have requested the Council’s official chronology.

Journalists should have compared earlier publications.

The Council itself should have published the exact dates of the chairman’s election and re-election.

Instead, the public was presented with different figures for years, each of which was used for another instance of ceremonial glorification.

Zahra’s Ordinary Long-Service Recognition Was Turned into a Family Media Performance

The episode involving Zahra Khalili — Masud’s mother and Bijan’s wife — also requires factual precision.

In November 2021, she did not receive a special commercial prize or a specially invented personal award.

She received ordinary municipal recognition for twenty-five years of service as a teacher in Øvre Eiker’s adult education system. The recognition took the form of a gift voucher from Nøstetangen Glass. That year, the municipality honoured nineteen employees with the same length of service. Publication concerning the municipal event

This fact must be stated accurately.

The critical question arises, however, from the way an ordinary collective event was transformed into a family media spectacle.

The headline of the publication focused on how the newly elected President of the Storting unexpectedly arrived to congratulate his mother.

Masud appeared with flowers.

Bijan also arrived at the event.

The publication expressly stated that he arrived with NRK journalists in tow.

An event devoted to nineteen municipal employees was therefore focused by the media upon a single family.

How much attention did the other long-serving employees receive?

Which of them were visited by a national broadcaster?

Whose children and spouses were transformed into the central figures of a separate publication?

Why did the decades of service provided by other teachers, cleaners, healthcare and municipal employees not receive the same personal media coverage?

Zahra’s twenty-five years of service do not in themselves give rise to any need for accusations.

What deserves criticism is the transformation of collective municipal recognition into yet another scene of public glorification of the Gharahkhani family.

Even an ordinary gift voucher was incorporated into the family’s political story:

the son — the newly elected President of the Storting;

the father — a well-known local politician and chairman of the Immigrant Council;

the mother — the central figure at the municipal event;

television — present at the scene;

the local newspaper — providing a separate publication.

This is not merely how a news item is created.

This is how a family political brand is created.

Masud’s Award from the Organisation Headed by His Father

In 2022, the Buskerud Immigrant Council presented Masud with its annual “Bridge Builder” Award.

During the same period, Bijan was re-elected as the head of the organisation, which, according to that publication, he had already led for twenty-one years. Publication concerning Masud’s award

This episode was examined in the previous section as a possible family conflict of interest.

In the context of media glorification, it acquires additional significance.

The son received the award.

The organisation was headed by the father.

The title of the award — “Bridge Builder” — repeated the description that had been applied to Bijan himself for decades.

The family’s symbolic image was therefore transferred from father to son together with the award formula.

Until the minutes, the list of candidates, the composition of the decision-making body and information concerning Bijan’s recusal have been published, this award cannot be used as independent confirmation of Masud’s public achievements.

Without a documented procedure, an organisation under the father’s long-standing leadership cannot be regarded as a fully independent external source of evaluation of the son.

“Rainbow Soul of the Year” 2026: Another Award for the Serving President of the Storting

In August 2026, Masud received the “Årets Regnbuesjel”, or “Rainbow Soul of the Year”, award during Drammen Pride. Publication concerning the 2026 award

The protection of the rights of sexual minorities is a separate matter of public importance.

Nevertheless, the presentation of an award to the serving President of the Storting must still comply with the requirements of transparency.

Who nominated Masud?

Who served on the jury?

Which other candidates were considered?

Did written criteria exist?

Which specific actions by Masud were assessed?

How was genuine long-term work distinguished from the advantages created by high office and constant access to the media?

Who financed the award and the ceremony?

Did the organisers receive additional attention because of the President of the Storting’s presence?

Did the politician use the award to strengthen his own moral and political image?

The mere alignment of interests does not prove a coordinated exchange of favours.

The organisers receive a prominent state guest and extensive coverage.

The politician receives another positive title and photographs.

That is precisely why the procedure must be open.

Support for one socially significant issue is not a universal certificate of a politician’s competence in economics, international politics, constitutional law or public administration.

The media system nevertheless allows every new award to function as general evidence of a person’s moral exceptionalism.

How the Factory of Family Public Recognition Operates

The example of the Gharahkhani family reveals a consistent mechanism.

1.   A politician acquires public recognition through a state, municipal or public position.

2.   The media publish numerous personal stories and emotional biographical features.

3.   The person is included on a list of candidates for a readers’ or public award.

4.   Party, public and personal networks are given the opportunity to mobilise supporters.

5.   Victory in the poll becomes a separate media event.

6.   The award is incorporated into official and unofficial biographies.

7.   The next organisation treats the earlier titles as confirmation of the candidate’s authority.

8.   The new title further increases media visibility.

9.   Family events receive coverage because of the recognition already accumulated.

10.                    The father’s image is used in stories about the son, while the son’s high status strengthens the public image of the father and the entire family.

The result is a system of reciprocal reputational reinforcement.

The father is known as the father of the President of the Storting.

The son is presented as the successor to the story of his father, the integration worker.

The father’s public organisation presents an award to the son.

The son’s high office attracts television coverage to an event involving the mother.

Municipal and newspaper awards received by the father and son are cited as proof of their public exceptionalism.

Each element considered separately may have a lawful explanation.

Taken together, however, these elements create a family mechanism for manufacturing political reputation.

What the Newspapers, Municipality and Award Organisers Must Disclose

An independent examination requires the following:

1.   Require Drammens Tidende to publish the complete rules governing the “Årets navn” polls for 2006, 2021 and 2022.

2.   Publish the lists of all candidates for each of those years.

3.   State the number of participants and the number of votes received by each candidate.

4.   Explain how the participation of unique, genuine voters was ensured.

5.   Disclose whether one person was permitted to vote more than once.

6.   Reveal the procedure for nominating candidates.

7.   Publish data on the number of editorial articles devoted to each candidate before voting ended.

8.   Establish whether organised mobilisation took place through party and public networks.

9.   Disclose information concerning sponsors, financing and the technical suppliers of the voting system.

10.                    Obtain from Øvre Eiker the documents relating to Bijan’s 2011 “Verdipris”.

11.                    Obtain the complete set of documents relating to the 2024 Cultural Prize: nominations, criteria, jury composition, minutes and voting results.

12.                    Examine the political, professional and public connections between jury members and Bijan.

13.                    Correct the contradictory information concerning the duration of Bijan’s leadership of the Buskerud Immigrant Council.

14.                    Publish the documents relating to the presentation of the 2022 “Bridge Builder” Award to Masud.

15.                    Establish whether Bijan participated in nominating, discussing or voting on his son’s candidacy.

16.                    Publish the criteria and jury composition for the 2026 “Årets Regnbuesjel” award.

17.                    Compare the media coverage received by Bijan and Masud with the coverage received by other candidates and award recipients.

18.                    Establish whether the awards were used in party advertising and electoral mobilisation.

19.                    Give all the organisations and individuals mentioned the right to provide a documented response.

20.                    Publish corrections if inaccurate dates, exaggerated lengths of service or unreliable biographical formulations are identified.

A Cascade of Awards Is No Substitute for Public Achievement

The number of prizes is not the number of social problems resolved.

The number of ceremonial publications is not an indicator of professional competence.

The repetition of the description “bridge builder” does not prove that these bridges genuinely existed, were needed by society and produced measurable results.

A newspaper that publishes the winner’s name but does not publish the number of votes or the verification rules manufactures popularity rather than establishing the truth.

A public organisation headed by the father and presenting an award to the son without publishing the minutes itself creates the suspicion of a conflict of interest.

A municipal jury that uses expressions about “uniqueness” and an “invaluable contribution” instead of specific indicators acts as a public relations office rather than an independent assessment body.

A politician who accepts the same readers’ title for two consecutive years must be prepared to explain precisely how the polls were conducted and why his candidacy was once again placed above every other resident of the region.

A family that turns even an ordinary municipal event honouring long-serving employees into an occasion involving the President of the Storting, a local politician, journalists and television should not be surprised by questions concerning the systematic management of its public image.

These questions do not require anyone to be declared guilty in advance.

They require an end to the presentation of media recognition as proven exceptionalism.

Bijan Gharahkhani may have participated in public activities.

Masud Gharahkhani may have received electoral support.

Zahra Khalili may have worked honestly within the municipal system for twenty-five years.

But none of these facts gives the family a right to endless media glorification without critical scrutiny.

An award is not an absolution.

Applause is not evidence.

Newspaper popularity is not an act of heroism.

Political status does not transform every family event into a matter of national importance.

Until the voting procedures, award criteria, jury compositions, minutes and potential conflicts of interest have been disclosed, the cascade of honours surrounding the Gharahkhani family must be regarded not as indisputable recognition of their exceptional achievements, but as a matter requiring serious journalistic, public and institutional investigation.

IX. SOCIAL BENEFITS ARE NOT FAMILY CHARITY OR A GIFT FROM THE LABOUR PARTY: WHO ACTUALLY FUNDS PENSIONS, BENEFITS AND SERVICES FOR REFUGEES

Not a single Norwegian pension is paid from Bijan Gharahkhani’s personal pocket.

Not a single disability benefit is financed by Zahra Khalili.

Not a single payment to a refugee is a personal gift from Masud Gharahkhani.

Neither NAV, municipal social services nor state integration programmes belong to the Labour Party.

They are public institutions operating under the law and financed through taxes, compulsory National Insurance contributions, employers’ contributions, municipal revenues, state appropriations and other lawful state revenues.

Therefore, any attempt to present social assistance as the personal achievement of an individual politician, public employee, community figure or political party is not merely inaccurate.

It represents the political appropriation of something financed by society as a whole.

Where the Money Actually Comes From

Official Norwegian Government documents state directly that tax revenues finance payments to households as well as public services in healthcare, education and other areas of society. Official explanation of the role of tax revenues

This means that the money is generated through payments made by millions of individuals and legal entities.

Employees pay income tax.

Self-employed people pay taxes and National Insurance contributions.

Employers pay compulsory contributions.

Businesses pay taxes on their activities.

Citizens and other residents pay value-added tax when purchasing goods and services.

Municipalities receive their own tax revenues and state transfers.

The national budget also includes other lawful state revenues and the authorised use of common public financial resources.

These funds are not deposited into Bijan’s personal account.

They are not held within the Gharahkhani family’s household budget.

Masud does not take them from his wallet before a sitting of the Storting.

Zahra does not transfer them to recipients from her salary as a teacher.

Yes, each of them, like other working residents of Norway, may pay taxes and National Insurance contributions.

But paying taxes does not transform an individual taxpayer into the owner of the national budget.

A person who has paid tax does not acquire the right to control the welfare system personally or demand political gratitude from recipients of assistance.

The National Budget Is Adopted by the Storting and Does Not Belong to the Labour Party

One of the Storting’s principal functions is to determine state revenue and expenditure through the consideration and adoption of the national budget. Official description of the Storting’s responsibilities

The Government submits a budget proposal.

Parliamentary committees consider it.

Political parties present their own priorities.

The Storting then adopts decisions concerning appropriations.

Even when the Government is led by representatives of the Labour Party, the budget does not become Labour Party property.

Even when a politician votes in favour of social expenditure, the allocated funds do not become that politician’s personal money.

Even when Masud presides over a sitting of the Storting, he does not become the owner of the appropriations approved by Parliament.

The President of the Storting manages parliamentary procedure.

He does not pay pensions.

He does not finance disability benefits.

He does not fund municipal social services.

He does not acquire the right to demand gratitude from every person who receives a lawful state payment.

A political party has the right to propose a social policy programme.

It may support increases or reductions in particular areas of expenditure.

It may bear political responsibility for the decisions adopted.

But a party has no right to address recipients of assistance as though public funds were its private charity.

The national budget does not belong to a party.

It is a public financial instrument adopted by a constitutional body of the state.

The National Insurance Scheme Is Not Financed by the Gharahkhani Family

Norway’s National Insurance Scheme is financed through contributions from employees, self-employed people and other members of the scheme, employers’ contributions and state appropriations. Contribution rates and state transfers are determined in accordance with legally established procedures. Official description of the financing of the National Insurance Scheme

The Norwegian Tax Administration also explains directly that compulsory National Insurance contributions help to finance the National Insurance Scheme. Explanation from the Norwegian Tax Administration

NAV is responsible for more than sixty different financial support schemes. These include unemployment benefit, sickness benefit, work assessment allowance, disability benefit, retirement pension, parental benefit, child benefit and other forms of support. Official description of NAV’s responsibilities

All these payments have different legal grounds, conditions, time limits and procedures.

They are not granted according to a social worker’s personal wishes.

They are not provided because Bijan has a favourable attitude towards a particular family.

They must not depend on whether the recipient supports the Labour Party.

A NAV employee may receive an application, request documentation, conduct an assessment, prepare a case or make an administrative decision within the limits of delegated authority.

But that employee acts on behalf of a state or municipal authority.

He is not the donor.

His signature on a decision does not transform public money into his private property.

A Pension Is Not a Politician’s Gift

It is particularly unacceptable to use the word “pension” as though it referred to a voluntary act of kindness by an individual public employee.

NAV’s official guidance states that a person who has lived or worked in Norway may accumulate pension rights under the National Insurance Scheme. The amount and conditions of the pension depend on circumstances established by law, including employment income, insurance record, duration of residence and other criteria. Official guidance concerning retirement pension

Not every refugee automatically receives the same pension.

Not every migrant is entitled to every form of benefit.

Not every elderly person receives the same amount.

Entitlements are established by law and calculated using specific information.

Some pension rights are connected with employment and contributions paid.

Some may depend on the duration of lawful residence and specific guarantees provided by legislation.

There are also occupational pension schemes and private pension savings.

The expression “we gave you a pension” is therefore legally and economically false if “we” refers to a particular family, social worker or political party.

Bijan does not award pensions.

Masud does not give pensions as gifts.

Pension rights do not arise from gratitude to the Labour Party.

They arise from the law, participation in the insurance system, employment, duration of residence and other grounds provided for by the state.

Disability Benefit Is Not a Family Donation

The same principle applies to people with disabilities.

Public support for people with disabilities exists because legislation protects those who have wholly or partially lost the ability to support themselves through work or who require special assistance.

NAV provides various forms of support to people with illnesses, injuries and disabilities, including payments, assistive equipment and support where long-term care is required. Official list of NAV financial support and services

No politician has the right to turn the vulnerability of a person with a disability into a source of party-political gratitude.

A person with a disability is not obliged to vote for the Labour Party because the state performs a duty established by law.

That person is not obliged to support Masud.

That person is not obliged to praise Bijan.

That person is not obliged to regard a NAV employee as a personal benefactor.

The recipient’s obligations consist of providing accurate information, complying with lawful conditions and participating in the prescribed procedures.

There is no political obligation to express gratitude to a particular family.

Financial Social Assistance Is a Lawful Safeguard of Last Resort, Not Party Charity

Financial social assistance is provided by local NAV offices to people who are unable to support themselves through employment, their own resources or other income.

An individual assessment is conducted before it is granted.

The recipient must first use the available means of supporting himself or herself.

The amount of assistance is determined on the basis of actual needs, income, expenses, health, housing and family circumstances. Official Government guidance concerning financial social assistance

Every person has the right to submit an application and receive a written decision.

A procedure for appeal is available where the applicant disagrees with that decision. Official NAV information concerning applications and appeals

This is not an envelope of money that a politician hands to a person in need according to his own wishes.

It is an administrative procedure.

There is an application.

There is documentation.

There is an individual assessment.

There is a decision.

There is a legal basis.

There is a right of appeal.

A social worker has no right to say:

“I gave you this money.”

He may say only:

“A state or municipal authority considered your application and made a decision in accordance with the law.”

The distinction between these formulations is fundamental.

The first creates personal dependency.

The second explains the legal nature of the assistance.

Integration Support for Refugees Is Also Financed by the State and Municipalities

The settlement and integration of refugees are municipal responsibilities, and municipalities that receive refugees obtain state grants. Official IMDi information concerning settlement

The integration grant is intended to cover municipal expenditure during the year in which a refugee is settled and during the following four years. Its purpose is to support organised settlement and integration work directed towards bringing refugees into employment, helping them achieve economic independence and enabling their active participation in society as rapidly as possible. Official description of the integration grant

A municipality is obliged to arrange an Introduction Programme for newly arrived immigrants who fall within the target group established by law. Official description of the Introduction Programme

Therefore, when Bijan, in his capacity as an integration worker, met a newly arrived family, helped it obtain housing, explained the rules or referred its members to language courses, he was performing professional duties financed by the state or municipality.

He did not provide the family with his own apartment.

He did not pay for language courses from his private savings.

He did not finance the school’s work.

He did not fund NAV.

He did not provide the municipality with its integration grant.

He received a salary for performing an official function within a system that had already been publicly financed.

That is not charity.

It is employment.

Professional assistance must therefore not be transformed into personal political capital.

A Refugee Is Not Required to Repay Lawful Assistance with a Vote

A person arriving in a new country may genuinely feel gratitude towards the society that provided safety.

But gratitude towards society is not the same as political dependency upon one party.

Gratitude towards the state does not create an obligation to support a particular politician.

Appreciation for municipal employees does not transform a voter’s ballot into payment for services received.

A refugee may vote for the Labour Party.

A refugee may vote against it.

A refugee may support the Conservative Party, the Progress Party, the Socialist Left Party or any other lawful political force.

A refugee may criticise NAV.

A refugee may appeal against a municipal decision.

A refugee may ask Bijan difficult questions.

A refugee may refuse to support Masud.

A refugee has the right not to disclose his or her political choice to anyone.

If social assistance is psychologically linked to an obligation of political gratitude, a legal entitlement is transformed into an instrument of influence.

If migrants are told that one party “gave” them housing, benefits, pensions or healthcare, they are presented with a false account of public funding.

If electoral loyalty is then expected from them, the matter no longer concerns integration but the possible political exploitation of a dependent position.

Recipients of Assistance Themselves Become Taxpayers

It is particularly cynical to remind refugees continually that they once received assistance while ignoring their subsequent contribution to public finances.

A migrant who works pays taxes.

The migrant’s employer pays compulsory contributions.

The migrant pays value-added tax when purchasing goods and services.

The migrant may establish a business, employ people and participate in financing the same system that provided assistance at the beginning of life in Norway.

Even recipients of pensions and certain other forms of income pay taxes and National Insurance contributions where required by law.

The National Insurance Scheme is based on common participation and the redistribution of risks among people at different stages of life.

Today, a person receives assistance because of illness.

Tomorrow, that person returns to work and resumes paying contributions.

Today, a family receives support following the birth of a child.

Later, the parents participate in financing the public budget for decades.

Today, a refugee receives help in learning the language.

Tomorrow, that person works as a doctor, driver, teacher, engineer, entrepreneur or municipal employee.

A person therefore cannot be kept permanently in the humiliating position of a debtor to a party or a particular family.

Personal Gratitude Does Not Confer the Right to Appropriate the State

According to my observations over many years, rhetoric within integration and party-political settings has often associated assistance to migrants with claims that the Labour Party itself protects them, provides their social guarantees and secures their future.

Personal conversations and public narratives may create the impression that particular social workers or politicians personally opened access to the Norwegian state for migrants.

These observations require documentary verification.

Specific speeches, recordings of events, publications, official correspondence and testimony from former recipients of assistance must be examined.

Without such evidence, every individual statement cannot be attributed to Bijan, Zahra or Masud.

But the general legal principle does not depend on the outcome of such an investigation:

none of them owns the welfare system, and none of them has the right to present public funds as a personal gift.

Bijan may have provided professional assistance with completing documents.

Zahra may have taught adult migrants.

Masud may have voted in favour of particular budgetary decisions.

But professional participation within a public system does not create a right to appropriate the entire system.

A teacher does not become the owner of a school.

A doctor does not become the owner of a hospital.

A social worker does not become the owner of a benefit.

The President of the Storting does not become the owner of the national budget.

The Dangers of Compulsory Gratitude Politics

The politics of imposed gratitude creates several dangerous consequences.

First, it humiliates the recipient of assistance.

The person is continually reminded that his or her position is owed to particular individuals.

Second, it distorts the structure of the state.

Legal benefits are presented as personal acts of mercy.

Third, it violates political freedom.

A voter may fear that criticism of a party will affect the way social institutions treat him or her.

Fourth, it creates advantages for the party with the closest access to the integration system.

Fifth, it allows individual employees to transform the performance of paid duties into a personal reputation as “saviours”.

Sixth, it devalues the contribution made by the true sources of financing — taxpayers, employees, employers and society as a whole.

Seventh, it creates family political capital where a neutral public service should exist.

Such appropriation does not necessarily require a direct instruction to vote in a particular way.

It is sufficient to repeat for years:

“We helped you.”

“Our party accepted you.”

“We gave you housing.”

“We secured your benefits.”

“The other parties want to take everything away from you.”

After this, a formally free vote may become psychologically tied to fear and a sense of debt.

What Every Recipient of Integration Assistance Must Be Told

Every newly arrived refugee and migrant should receive a written notice in a language that he or she understands:

All state and municipal payments are provided under the law and financed from public funds. They are not gifts from a political party, public employee, social worker or public organisation. Your right to receive services does not depend on your political views or how you vote. You have the right to support any lawful party, criticise the authorities, appeal against administrative decisions and refuse to disclose your political choice.

This notice should be provided:

• when a person first contacts NAV;

• when a person joins the Introduction Programme;

• when municipal housing is provided;

• when financial social assistance is granted;

• when a person participates in integration events;

• when a person is invited to meetings attended by politicians.

If the system is genuinely neutral, it should have nothing to fear from such an explanation.

What Must Be Investigated in Øvre Eiker and Buskerud

Establishing whether public assistance was transformed into family or party-political capital requires the following measures:

1.   Examine all informational materials used by the Øvre Eiker integration service during Bijan’s period of employment.

2.   Establish whether recipients were informed that payments did not depend upon political support.

3.   Examine recordings of integration conferences, public meetings and cultural events.

4.   Determine which parties and politicians were invited to those events.

5.   Establish whether other parties were given an equal right to explain their programmes.

6.   Determine whether expressions such as “we gave”, “the Labour Party helped” or other formulations creating personal or party-political gratitude were used.

7.   Interview former recipients of assistance under conditions of confidentiality.

8.   Establish whether they experienced political pressure or feared losing support.

9.   Determine whether official contacts were used to invite people to party events.

10.                    Examine the separation between Bijan’s working hours, his party-political activities and his work within public organisations.

11.                    Examine the use of municipal premises, transport, telephones, email addresses and contact lists.

12.                    Establish whether public programmes were portrayed in the media as personal achievements of Bijan or Masud.

13.                    Determine whether the Labour Party used the stories of recipients of assistance in party advertising.

14.                    Obtain written explanations from the management of NAV and the municipality.

15.                    Give Bijan, Zahra, Masud and the Labour Party the right to respond to specific documented questions.

16.                    Refer the material to the competent supervisory authorities if indications are identified that public resources were used for party-political purposes.

17.                    Publish the findings of the investigation while protecting the personal data of socially vulnerable people.

18.                    Introduce a compulsory written notice concerning the political neutrality of social assistance.

Public Money Must Not Be Privatised Through Political Rhetoric

Bijan Gharahkhani did not maintain Norway’s refugees.

Zahra Khalili did not finance Norwegian pensioners.

Masud Gharahkhani did not pay benefits to people with disabilities.

The Labour Party does not own NAV.

All the individuals named may have performed paid work, held public office, participated in political decision-making and paid taxes on the same basis as other residents.

But this does not give them the right to transform public funds into family political property.

Taxpayers finance the system.

Employees and employers finance the National Insurance Scheme.

Municipalities administer part of the social services.

The state provides appropriations.

The Storting adopts the budget.

NAV applies the law and makes administrative decisions.

The recipient has rights, conditions and obligations.

There is no place in this chain for a personal benefactor demanding gratitude in the form of a vote.

A social benefit is not a gift.

A pension is not a party-political award.

Municipal housing is not a politician’s family property.

An integration programme is not an election campaign headquarters.

A NAV employee is not the owner of the national budget.

The President of the Storting is not the owner of taxpayers’ money.

The investigation must therefore continue into precisely how public programmes, budgetary funds, official contacts and the personal stories of recipients of assistance may have been used to construct personal, family and party-political reputations.

Society has the right to know not only how much money was allocated.

It has the right to know who attempted to claim political gratitude for money that never belonged to them.

X. A POLITICIAN SHOULD NOT BE A “STAR”: A FINAL CRITICAL CONCLUSION ON FAMILY POLITICAL CAPITAL, PUBLIC RESOURCES, AND THE NEED FOR AN INDEPENDENT REVIEW

Power is not inherited. Social assistance does not belong to a political party. A newspaper title is not a substitute for professional competence. A municipal award does not exempt anyone from public scrutiny.

1. From a Personal Acquaintance to Matters of National Importance

The present material began with the author’s personal acquaintance with Bijan Gharahkhani, which took place on 7 July 2006 at the NAV office in Hokksund, Øvre Eiker Municipality.

Bijan Gharahkhani held a position there as a social worker involved in integration matters, but he was not the author’s caseworker. The author’s direct caseworker, until her death from cancer, was Wenche Karøy.

The author’s initial impression of Bijan as an evasive, secretive, and insincere person is a personal assessment and cannot, in itself, serve as evidence of any violation. However, the subsequent observation of his public, party, and organisational activities over a period of almost twenty years raises questions that are no longer personal, but institutional.

For this reason, the conclusion of the present investigation is based neither on a first impression, nor on rumours, nor on personal hostility. It is based on a publicly verifiable chronology, official positions, intersecting organisations, repeated family awards, the political advancement of Masud Gharahkhani, and the absence of sufficient transparency precisely where transparency should be mandatory.

2. What Is Confirmed by Public Sources

The official biography published by the Storting confirms that Bijan Gharahkhani served as a substitute representative for the Labour Party from Buskerud during the 2005–2009 parliamentary term. During the immediately following parliamentary term, 2009–2013, Masud Gharahkhani became a substitute representative for the same party from the same region. In 2017, he was elected as a Member of Parliament, and on 25 November 2021, he assumed the office of President of the Storting. This sequence is recorded in the official biographies of Bijan Gharahkhani and Masud Gharahkhani.

This chronology does not automatically prove unlawful nepotism. However, it demonstrates an obvious form of political succession within the same family, the same party, and the same region. The public is therefore entitled to know how the candidate lists were formed, who participated in the nomination process, what recommendations were made, and what role the father’s connections played at the beginning of his son’s political career.

Another intersection is also publicly confirmed. In 2022, Bijan Gharahkhani was re-elected as head of the Buskerud Immigrant Council, while the “Bridge Builder Award” established by that council was presented to his son, Masud. The publication reported that, by that time, Bijan had already led the organisation for 21 years. Thus, a public organisation headed by the father honoured the son for his public and political activities. This fact alone requires the publication of the minutes of the decision-making process, the composition of the judging panel, and information on whether Bijan withdrew from the discussion and voting. Source.

Newspaper and municipal forms of public glorification of the family have also been confirmed. Bijan received the readers’ title “Name of the Year” for 2006. Masud was declared “Name of the Year” for 2021 by Drammens Tidende and publicly reported receiving similar recognition for 2022. Following his 2021 victory, Masud himself acknowledged that those who truly deserved public recognition were, above all, the people who had worked on the front line during the pandemic. Nevertheless, the title remained with the politician rather than with doctors, social workers, drivers, teachers, and other people who bore genuine daily responsibility for the life of society. Source concerning the 2021 award.

Zahra Khalili received municipal recognition for 25 years of service. Such recognition is, in itself, an ordinary form of acknowledging the length of service of municipal employees. However, a separate question arises when the routine recognition of a group of employees is transformed into a separate family media event involving well-known relatives and the media.

None of these awards, considered individually, proves any abuse. However, their repetition, their concentration within one family, and the accompanying media coverage create the image of a peculiar conveyor belt of public recognition, through which the same family name is presented year after year as a symbol of exceptional merit.

3. The Central Issue Is Not an Individual Award, but the Intersection of Resources

The criticism is not directed at the family’s national origin, its migration history, or the very existence of a family relationship between father and son.

The subject of the investigation is considerably more specific: could a public position, party infrastructure, public organisations, municipal connections, access to migrant communities, and local media resources have reinforced one another and contributed to the accumulation of family political capital?

Several different spheres intersected in the activities of Bijan Gharahkhani:

• employment within NAV and the integration system;

• membership and positions within Labour Party structures;

• participation in municipal politics;

• long-term leadership of the Buskerud Immigrant Council;

• access to migrant organisations and their leaders;

• participation in public events and award procedures;

• regular appearances in the regional media.

Each of these roles may be lawful. However, their long-term concentration in the hands of one person creates an increased risk that public, party, organisational, and family interests may become intermingled.

If a social worker is simultaneously a party functionary and an influential leader of a migrant organisation, a declaration of good intentions is insufficient. Strict rules governing the separation of roles, documented oversight, and the possibility of independent review are required.

A vulnerable person who approaches NAV for benefits, housing, advice, or integration assistance must never be made to feel, even indirectly, that such assistance is connected to a particular party, politician, or expectation of gratitude. NAV itself defines its role as a public system that performs social functions established by law. Consequently, assistance provided through NAV cannot be transformed into a party gift.

4. Social Funds Do Not Belong to the Gharahkhani Family

Pensions, benefits, disability payments, social assistance, services for resettled persons, and integration programmes are not financed from the personal funds of Bijan Gharahkhani, Zahra Khalili, or Masud Gharahkhani.

These are public funds:

• taxes paid by citizens and businesses;

• contributions to the National Insurance Scheme;

• employers’ contributions;

• state and municipal budgetary funds;

• appropriations adopted by Parliament in accordance with established procedures.

Therefore, neither a social worker, nor a Member of Parliament, nor a party activist has the right to present the implementation of the law as an act of personal generosity or as a special favour granted by the Labour Party.

A person receiving lawful social assistance is required to comply with the law and provide accurate information. However, that person is not required to vote for the Labour Party, support a particular politician, participate in party events, or feel personal political gratitude towards the Gharahkhani family.

State assistance is not provided because a social worker has demonstrated generosity. It is provided because there is a law, a budget, and an administrative decision.

When politicians symbolically claim authorship over state benefits, this amounts to a form of political privatisation of public funds.

5. What the Present Material Does Not Declare to Have Been Proven

Legal accuracy requires the limits of the conclusions reached to be stated directly.

On the basis of the open sources examined, it cannot be asserted as an established fact that Bijan Gharahkhani:

• unlawfully used the personal data of NAV clients;

• compelled recipients of social assistance to vote for the Labour Party;

• directly controlled the nomination of Masud Gharahkhani;

• personally made the decision to present his son with the Buskerud Immigrant Council’s award;

• committed a criminal act of corruption.

Nor has a conspiracy between the Gharahkhani family, the Labour Party, municipal authorities, public organisations, and the local media been proven.

However, the absence of publicly available evidence of a violation is not evidence that a proper review was conducted or that no violations occurred.

When the necessary documents are closed, unpublished, or have never been examined, society is not obliged to place blind trust in polished biographies, newspaper profiles, and ceremonial speeches. It has the right to demand an investigation.

This is precisely where the dividing line lies between an unfounded accusation and legitimate public scrutiny: the present material does not pronounce a criminal judgment, but it identifies a sufficient combination of institutional intersections and contradictions to justify an independent investigation.

6. Questions That Require Direct Answers

Bijan Gharahkhani must explain:

1.   How did he separate his position as a NAV social worker from his activities within the Labour Party?

2.   Were there written instructions prohibiting political campaigning among NAV clients?

3.   Were working hours, premises, official contacts, or integration events used for political communication?

4.   Did he participate in party processes connected with Masud’s nomination or political advancement?

5.   What role did he play in the decision to present his son with the Buskerud Immigrant Council’s award?

6.   Did he withdraw from the discussion and voting on that matter?

7.   Why have contradictory accounts of the duration of his leadership of the Immigrant Council appeared in public sources?

Masud Gharahkhani must explain:

1.   What specific assistance did he receive at the beginning of his political career from his father and his father’s party network?

2.   Who supported his nomination to the Labour Party’s candidate lists in Buskerud?

3.   Does he consider it ethically acceptable to receive an award from an organisation headed by his father?

4.   Did he attempt to secure the publication of the award minutes and information concerning the potential conflict of interest?

5.   What measurable professional achievements, beyond public prominence, official positions, and awards, demonstrate the exceptional nature of his political advancement?

6.   Does he consider it acceptable to present state social benefits as the achievement of a single political party?

The Buskerud Labour Party must publish:

• the minutes and criteria governing candidate nominations during the relevant periods;

• information identifying the persons who participated in discussions concerning Masud’s candidacy;

• the rules applied to prevent family conflicts of interest;

• information concerning the mobilisation of members of migrant organisations in internal party procedures.

Øvre Eiker Municipality and NAV must state:

• what mechanisms for ensuring political neutrality were in place in 2006 and during the subsequent periods;

• whether complaints concerning the intermingling of official and party activities were considered;

• whether the use of working hours, premises, and professional contacts was reviewed;

• whether clients received written notification that state assistance did not depend on party affiliation or political preferences.

The Buskerud Immigrant Council must provide:

• an accurate chronology of Bijan Gharahkhani’s leadership;

• its statutes and award rules;

• the complete minutes recording the decision to present the award to Masud;

• the composition of the commission and information concerning any recusal by Bijan;

• information concerning the sources of financing for the organisation and its award events.

The editorial board of Drammens Tidende and the organisers of other awards must disclose:

• the rules governing the nomination of candidates;

• the number of votes cast and verified;

• the methods used to prevent duplicate or organised voting;

• the composition of the judging panel and any connections between its members and the nominees;

• the reasons for repeatedly honouring members of the same family.

7. What an Independent Review Must Involve

The investigation cannot be entrusted to a body connected to the same party, municipal, or family relationships. It must be conducted by persons who have no dependence upon the Buskerud Labour Party, Øvre Eiker Municipality, the local NAV office, the Immigrant Council, or regional award committees.

Within the limits of their respective authority, the municipal control committee, NAV’s internal oversight bodies, state supervisory institutions, auditors of public organisations, and data protection authorities should participate in the review if grounds arise to suspect that official information may have been used for an improper purpose.

The review must include:

1.   party minutes and candidate nomination documents;

2.   the minutes of the Buskerud Immigrant Council;

3.   information concerning the financing of events and organisations;

4.   NAV’s official instructions concerning political neutrality;

5.   calendar records and official correspondence, subject to compliance with personal data protection legislation;

6.   the rules and results of award voting procedures;

7.   confidential interviews with former clients, employees, and participants in integration programmes;

8.   the granting to Bijan, Masud, and other persons mentioned of a full right of reply;

9.   the publication of a reasoned final report.

A refusal to provide documents would not, in itself, prove guilt. However, an unjustified refusal would intensify suspicion and demonstrate that ceremonial declarations about trust and openness are inconsistent with an actual willingness to submit to scrutiny.

8. Origin Does Not Confer Immunity from Criticism

The criticism of the Gharahkhani family is not directed against Iranians, Kurds, migrants, Muslims, or national minorities. A person’s origin is neither evidence of guilt nor a justification for political opacity.

A family of migrant origin must be subject to exactly the same rules as any other political family in Norway.

Questions concerning official positions, political parties, awards, and public funds cannot be answered by accusing critics of prejudice. Such a substitution of issues transforms minority status into a political shield and creates not equality, but privileged immunity.

Equality means equal accountability.

The higher a person’s office, the fewer grounds that person has to hide behind ceremonies, titles, and emotional stories of success. The office of President of the Storting does not reduce the obligation to answer questions; it makes that obligation particularly stringent.

9. Political Reputation Must Be Based on Results, Not on a Shower of Awards

Norwegian democracy does not need political “stars” who are granted new titles year after year, surrounded by family media stories, and presented within an atmosphere of almost compulsory admiration.

It needs accountable public officials who are capable of proving the results of their work through documents, figures, and decisions.

A readers’ vote is not an examination of competence.

A municipal award is not a certificate of integrity.

High office does not prove a profound understanding of economics, public administration, or international politics.

Media prominence is not a substitute for professional expertise.

A story of successful integration does not remove the need to establish how a political career was formed.

If Masud Gharahkhani genuinely completed his entire political journey independently through ability, knowledge, and public support, the open publication of the relevant documents should confirm this rather than harm him.

If Bijan Gharahkhani never mixed his work within NAV with party activities, an independent review should confirm this as well.

If the awards were granted honestly and without family influence, the organisers have nothing to conceal.

For precisely this reason, resistance to transparency appears far more troubling than the investigation itself.

10. Final Conclusion

The materials examined do not permit the pronouncement of a criminal judgment. However, they do permit a serious public and political conclusion to be drawn.

What stands before us is not merely the story of a father and son who participated independently in public life. It is the long-term concentration around one family of several mutually reinforcing resources: public social work, party connections, migrant organisations, municipal politics, newspaper attention, public awards, and national parliamentary power.

Such a concentration cannot be left without scrutiny merely because it is accompanied by attractive language concerning integration, diversity, and public trust.

A social worker must not transform a client’s trust into party loyalty.

A public organisation must not become a family political showcase.

A political party must not present taxpayers’ money as its own charitable gift.

A newspaper must not manufacture political greatness through opaque voting procedures.

A municipal award must not replace an independent audit.

Family connections must not become an informal mechanism for inheriting political influence.

The Storting is not the pinnacle of a family career to be passed from father to son. It is the supreme representative body of the state, whose officeholders are required to withstand the strictest public scrutiny.

The legal caution exercised in the present material is not a weakness. It prevents the real questions from being hidden behind accusations of defamation and requires answers to be provided not through insults, ceremonial photographs, or yet another award, but through documents.

The combination of circumstances identified is not yet sufficient for a criminal conviction, but it is more than sufficient to justify an independent review.

Until such a review has been conducted, the story of the Gharahkhani family cannot be presented to society solely as an immaculate symbol of successful integration. It remains a test for Norwegian democracy itself: a test of its ability to scrutinise those whom the state, party, and media system has already elevated to the pinnacle of political power.

If the system is genuinely clean, the documents will confirm it.

If, however, the documents reveal that public positions, organisations, or the dependent circumstances of individuals were used for family or party interests, personal accountability, political consequences, and the necessary legal measures must follow.

Norway must answer the questions raised not with applause, new titles, or newspaper portraits.

It must answer with the truth.