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EUROVISION
Analysis

Why Eurovision may become irrelevant again

The contest faces its most critical edition after the withdrawal of several countries and mounting suspicions over televoting manipulation

Noam Bettan, Israel's representative at the 2026 Eurovision Song Contest, performs the song 'Michelle' during the contest's first semifinal.Lisa Leutner (REUTERS)

Austrian Foreign Minister Beate Meinl-Reisinger warned back in September that several countries, including Spain, were planning to boycott Eurovision due to Israel’s participation. The top diplomat of the host country tried to dissuade critics, reminding them that the contest “is not a tool for imposing sanctions.” But it was Austria itself that first resorted to a boycott: in 1969, it chose not to send a representative to Madrid. That year, Spain was hosting the event after Massiel’s victory in London with La, la, la. Vienna refused to take part to avoid helping legitimize the Franco regime in Europe, at a moment when Spain was under a state of emergency and curbing the modest press freedoms introduced by the Fraga law.

Eurovision had been running for barely more than a decade as a project of European integration through public broadcasters. But the expansion of the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) beyond the continent’s borders — especially into the Middle East and North Africa — introduced tensions among its participants. Six years after Austria’s boycott, Greece decided to pull out in protest over Turkey’s participation, just after Ankara had invaded Cyprus. From the very beginning, geopolitics has influenced the song contest.

After two long decades (or more) of decline, the festival was revived thanks to the modernization driven by the Scandinavian countries, the democratization of results through televoting, and the enthusiasm of the LGBTQ+ community. Eurovision became a platform celebrating diversity and the cosmopolitan face of societies that did not always match what was happening on stage. Dana International (Israel), Conchita Wurst (Austria), and Verka Serduchka (Ukraine) became festival icons. At the same time, Viktor Orbán’s Hungary and Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Turkey chose to step away in response to the contest’s transformation.

The EBU embraced those values, but it has proved unable to manage its own success once Eurovision again became a major global showcase where political positions and confrontations surfaced — and spilled over. The organization had long insisted that the contest was an apolitical platform in which broadcasters, not countries, took part, overlooking the fact that in some states the media — especially public broadcasters — remain muzzled and under government control.

Russia’s presence became increasingly untenable: t.A.T.u. brought visibility to the LGBTQ+ community in 2003 despite discomfort in Moscow, while in 2009, Georgia withdrew after refusing to change the lyrics of We Don’t Wanna Put In, an unmistakable jab at the defiant Russian president.

Growing tensions

The turning point came in 2021, when the EBU expelled Belarus and, in 2022, Russia over the invasion of Ukraine. At first, the organization resisted suspending Moscow, arguing that Eurovision was a “non‑political cultural event.” That was the message it sent to Sweden’s SVT, which — along with other broadcasters — pushed the EBU to reverse course and bar Russia from the competition.

That year, Ukraine won the Turin contest after a landslide victory in the televote, overtaking the United Kingdom and Spain, the favorites to take home the glass microphone. Geopolitics had taken center stage — not only through a high‑stakes expulsion, but by shaping the outcome of the contest itself, something that had never happened before.

Geopolitical tensions did not end there. Israel’s brutal response to the Hamas attack triggered a wave of outrage that threatened the staging of the 2024 Malmö contest, which Swedish organizers had hoped would relaunch Eurovision. It didn’t. The festival descended into chaos: attempts to drown out boos, clashes between participants, pro‑Palestinian protests in the streets, the expulsion of the Dutch contestant, and even a ban on entering the venue with the European flag.

Organizers hoped Switzerland, the country where the festival was born, could calm the waters. The edition was quieter, but the campaign by Benjamin Netanyahu’s government — which even posted messages urging people to vote up to 20 times for Israel — pushed the country to the brink of victory and exposed the supposedly “non‑political” nature the EBU so often invokes. After the contest, the situation in Palestine led several countries to call for Israel’s exclusion, a decision that was meant to be put to a vote within the organization.

That vote never happened. Instead, the EBU proposed a package of measures to make televote manipulation harder and to limit international campaigning. Five major players then chose to leave the contest: Spain, a Big Five member; the Netherlands, one of the founders; Ireland, tied for the most wins; Iceland, where viewership nears 100%; and Slovenia, part of the first generation of countries to join after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the disintegration of Yugoslavia.

The EBU is now a prisoner of its decisions regarding Russia and Israel. That contradiction has left it unable to resolve the dilemma that has festered for at least three editions: if it continues pretending the contest is apolitical, it would have to consider readmitting Moscow —something no member appears willing to accept. And if it acknowledges that Eurovision is political, it would at least have to put Israel’s participation to a vote.

The controversy has already shaped this year’s opening. In the first semifinal, boos — and applause — returned for Israel’s contestant, and Israeli media fear a Finnish victory after Finland emerged as one of the most vocal critics of Israel’s presence. The polarization this scenario promises is putting the EBU — an organization that, incidentally, also includes Lebanese public television — in a difficult position.

The Nordic countries have drawn a clear line: they will stay only if the rules are upheld. Their departure would not only mean a massive loss of revenue and audience — in those countries, Eurovision is a cultural phenomenon with viewership above 90% — but also another blow to the festival’s credibility, deepening its crisis. Eurovision may not disappear, but it could slide back into irrelevance.

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