Eurovision’s Political Saga Is on Display

BY JAMES HOOKWAY

The faint booing began as soon as Israel’s Noam Bettan took the stage to perform his country’s entry in this year’s Eurovision Song Contest, a song in English, French and Hebrew about a girl named Michelle.

The fans in the Vienna audience seemed more interested in the next acts in Tuesday’s semifinal, which included a leatherclad metal band from Serbia and a cameo from British ’80s icon Boy George. The chants of “Free, free Palestine” quickly faded as security bundled away four protesters and Bettan swept into another chorus.

The conflict in Gaza has consumed much of Europe’s media in the run-up to this year’s edition after broadcasters from five countries boycotted it over Israel’s inclusion. Ireland’s RTE said taking part would be “unconscionable given the appalling loss of lives in Gaza and the humanitarian crisis there.” Slovenia’s national broadcaster said Israel’s participation would “conflict with its values of peace, equality and respect.” Iceland, Spain and the Netherlands also chose to sit out the show.

Veteran devotees can argue to have seen it all before as Saturday’s final approaches.

“I expected more booing,” said Barbara Barreiro Leon, a professor at Scotland’s Aberdeen University who attended the semifinal and who has written extensively on the contest. “In previous years there were probably more protests.”

Eurovision has long carried political overtones, ever since Europe’s broadcasters first put on the show to test their ability to host live transnational events. At the first one in 1956, Germany sent a survivor of the Holzen concentration camp who sang of the dangers of sweeping the past under the carpet—the earliest instance of a country trying to reshape its identity through the competition.

Austria boycotted Eurovision in 1969 when it was hosted by Spain, then under the rule of dictator Francisco Franco. Greece tried to score some political points by snubbing it in 1975 after Turkey invaded Cyprus, while Turkey stayed away the following year, opening the door to more boycotts as the contest expanded, including this year’s dust-up.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing for the fans. Aficionados say they are fascinated by all the maneuvering and infighting. They enjoy an additional layer of theater to complement the cheesy dance routines, outlandish outfits and big singalong choruses on stage.

“One of the reasons we like Eurovision so much is that we like to watch it for the political messages and tensions,” said Dean Vuletic, who has written a book on the topic. “Politics is part of the show and it always has been.”

Shortly after Russia annexed Crimea in 2014, Ukraine tested the limits of what was permissible by submitting a song mourning Stalin’s expulsion of the Tartars from the peninsula.

Russia was banned after launching its full invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Shortly after, the public broadcaster in Kyiv sent over a rap group to per-form a song that had become a resistance anthem back home, ending with a plea for the rest of Europe to help. Its Kalush Orchestra won in a landslide.

The Eurovision format provides generous opportunities for intrigue. Each country submits an act, with the winner determined by a jury and a popular vote open to members of the public in each competing nation— so long as they don’t vote for their own nation. This means people often vote for countries where they see some historic allegiance, or vote tacti-cally to edge out old rivals.

For a lot of people, this is part of the fun. Israel, however, annoyed many broadcasters last year by boosting its artist’s ranking through a lobbying campaign, adding to the unease over the country’s involvement.

Viewers were permitted to cast 20 votes each, and some participants accused Israel of breaking the spirit of the contest by encouraging people across Europe to cast all their votes for its singer, Yuval Raphael, who survived Hamas’s attack on the Nova festival in 2023. Its prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, joined the campaign on Instagram, urging fans to cast all their votes for Raphael. She placed second.

Plenty of countries see the contest as a way to project a little soft power. For some, such as Moldova, doing well at Eurovision is a way of telling the world they see their future among the community of West-leaning liberal democracies— much as Germany did in the first edition. “Their song has a very pro-European message,” said Vuletic, who has lectured on the contest. “Last night in the arena, it set the house on fire. People were jumping around singing along. It’s such a high-energy song and it has really managed to attract the attention and support of a lot of fans.”

Actor Will Ferrell, whose 2020 film “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” memorably spoofed the competition, recorded a short video shown at the semifinal. “One word for Eurovision? What could it be, oh, I know: joy,” he said.

MARTIN MEISSNER/ ASSOCIATED PRESS

Serbian metal band Lavina, above, and Israel’s Noam Bettan, below, performed in their Eurovision semifinals this past week in Austria. At right, Yuval Raphael from Israel during her 2025 performance in Switzerland.

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