Israel's Eurovision Shift Sparks Controversy

(Opinion) Niamh Irbhinn

On Saturday night, I was up past my bedtime. After all, it's the most wonderful time of the year – the Eurovision Song Contest (ESC). Deep down in my heart, I know this only marks the end of Eurovision season and the relatively quiet start to next year, but compared to previous years, there was a bit more “oomph”.

Image: EuroMix

I would regard Eurovision as television’s equivalent of Marmite; which might mean you have a lot of questions. If you’ve ever wondered about Eurovision’s oddities, from the inclusion of Australia to the whole rigamarole of speaking French regardless of host country, your answer most likely lies with the European Broadcasting Union (EBU).

The EBU is the reason for the season, being the association of (predominantly public) broadcasters that organises the show every year. Eurovision, in fact, doesn’t solely refer to the contest – it's the brand name used when EBU members link up to show a single broadcast, such as the eponymous Eurovision Song Contest.

Last year was the EBU and the ESC’s annus horribilis, as many of us will remember. Undoubtedly the most prominent was that of the continued participation of that unexpected contender – Israel.

Following the war in Gaza, Israel’s entry: ‘Hurricane’ required their lyrics to be changed. Many artists boycotted a flag parade rehearsal, and there were complaints from multiple countries being filed to the EBU, which resulted in significant structural changes on the welfare front. But despite Israel being solely responsible for these changes to be put in place, they have still not had their participation rescinded.

The way I usually explain Israel’s connection to Eurovision is that it’s a bit like the theory of six degrees of separation; the state first participated in 1973, its silver anniversary year, and has been absent on four occasions since, with the same amount of gongs to its name, one more than Austria. It’s something I would like to be proven wrong on, but I would argue that being such a relatively young state, most Israeli popular musicians and songwriters have some degree of connection to the ESC, whether directly or indirectly.

Compare this to Russia, which had only been participating since 1994, and managed to win once with the same number of absences. Russia’s record is one certain nations would long to have, but ultimately following the invasion of Ukraine the EBU deemed it suitable that Russia did not participate when Ukraine hosted Eurovision.

But do I think the above makes Israel’s participation morally right, and unhypocritical? Absolutely not. From a Eurovision perspective, the Israel of yesteryear is not the Israel of today. The last two years, we have seen performances that cry out for sympathy, their words carefully selected to evoke powerful imagery; last year, they were still broken from this hurricane, but this year, a new day will rise, and life is to go on – a moderately concerning message if you’ve actually read the news recently.

This year, Switzerland provided a massive stage on which performers could move around, but Yuval Raphael, a survivor of the attack on the Nova music festival, simply walked from the front of the stage to a bejewelled structure, safe in the knowledge that staging effort wouldn’t make much difference to her final result, with a social media campaign encouraging those who probably weren’t watching the contest at all to vote en masse – the UK gave its twelve televote points (the most that can be given) to Israel.

After singing, she bellowed “Am Yisrael chai!” - the people of Israel live! - the same words Ofra Haza sung in 1983. Like Raphael, Haza also achieved second place with Chai, a powerful song in which she sung about the perseverance of the Jewish people in spite of adversity and persecution, with no overt and/or literary reference to actual conflict or calamities.

In 2007, Teapacks lamented violent conflict and the potential for nuclear war with Push the Button, a humourous, multilingual earworm backed with a ska guitar lick. And, a year after debuting, Poogy/Kaveret sang that there was “enough air for a nation or two” - interpreted as a plea for peace through the two-state solution.

Take these into consideration and it becomes clear that the IBA – no matter how harsh concurrent conflict was back home – used Eurovision for its intended purpose. It seemed fully aware of its importance with WWII and the Holocaust, which ransacked the lineage of the many Jewish families who would later make aliyah, then both in living memory.

The IBA fundamentally understood Eurovision’s power to unite us through music and encourage mutual understanding between nations. Ironically, when the EBU entrenched this value as contest branding, it was when it began to slip away due to the actions of Kan, Israeli’s new national broadcaster.

Kan was established under the second Netanyahu premiership, a complete and total restructure of the Israeli Broadcasting Authority which, funnily enough, faded off air following the 2017 edition of ESC. It’s not certain why this happened, although Guardian columnist Chris West recently speculated that the IBA had been “too left-wing" - which, if those previous Eurovision entries, and the increasing tide of populism in Israel and beyond

are to go by, is an informed and reasonable observation.

There has been a significant tonal change since the restructuring – the messaging of songs that have been brought to ESC by Kan are:

stronger, bolder, determined to present a more positive image of Israel to the world that is falling apart by the day, as war and ethnic cleansing in Palestinian territory intensifies.

So, where does that leave us? After the events of the last two years, the answer is simple. Israel must go.

The government undertakes huge campaigns no other country is conducting to skew the vote in their favour, Kan’s commentators use the live broadcast to openly mock other musicians whom they perceive as critical of the Israeli state, and their music contains literary undertones that, by design, detract and distract from the current state of affairs. You could tell me “but then there won’t be any Jewish folk at Eurovision!” but there will be plenty of opportunities to go round, including representing another country (as 2024’s Tali Golergant did) which is not unheard of in post-2020 Eurovision.

My own personal interest in Eurovision arises from the fact that

it isn’t just a song contest; it’s a platform that promotes acceptance, cultural exchange, and a better understanding of the world.

There’s a reason there’s more mention of Eurovision than Palestine in this article – I know Eurovision inside out, or at least I’d like to think I do. However, the continued participation of a country that has firmly positioned itself against the Contest’s interests, and the EBU’s complicity in allowing it to happen, leaves me on a fence edge as to how this unique, liberal-minded staple of television will continue to thrive as it once did. I will still watch – but with fear that we are watching something that’s very special to so many people across the globe unravel in real time.