Eurovision’s Boycott Crisis: Why Allowing Israel to Participate Is Essential to Preserving a Cultural Gem

Eurovision Israel boycott? The Eurovision Song Contest, that annual extravaganza of glitter, high notes and unbridled camp, has long served as a respite from the world’s grim headlines. For nearly 70 years, it has brought together broadcasters from across Europe—and beyond—to celebrate music in all its eccentric glory. Yet today, this cherished institution faces an existential threat not from declining viewership or artistic stagnation, but from the insidious creep of politics. The decision by several countries to boycott the 2026 contest in Switzerland unless Israel is excluded represents a dangerous escalation, one that smacks of selective moralizing and, at its worst, a veiled form of antisemitism.

Eurovision was never designed to adjudicate international conflicts. Founded in 1956 by the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) as a means to unite a war-torn continent through television technology and shared culture, it has evolved into a global phenomenon watched by over 180 million people annually. Its slogan, “United by Music,” underscores a simple premise: for one glittering weekend, national rivalries yield to artistic expression. Allowing Israel to participate—as the EBU has rightly decided—honors this ethos. Banning it would betray it, opening the door to endless politicized exclusions that could unravel the contest entirely. Nowhere is this more poignant than in the story of Yuval Raphael, Israel’s 2025 entrant and a survivor of the October 7, 2023, Nova music festival massacre. Her journey from hiding under corpses to second place on the Eurovision stage embodies the resilience the contest should champion, not condemn.

A Storied History Marred by Political Intrusions

Politics has shadowed Eurovision since its inception, but the EBU has historically strived to keep it at bay. In 1969, Austria withdrew in protest of Spain’s participation under Franco’s dictatorship, setting an early precedent for boycotts. The 1970s saw Jordan cut its broadcast when Israel seemed poised to win, replacing the leaderboard with images of daffodils. More dramatically, Portugal’s 1974 entry “E Depois do Adeus” served as a coded signal for the Carnation Revolution, triggering a coup against its authoritarian regime.

The post-Cold War era amplified these tensions. In 2009, Georgia’s “We Don’t Wanna Put In” was disqualified for its thinly veiled jab at Russian President Vladimir Putin following the 2008 war. Ukraine’s 2016 winner, “1944” by Jamala, evoked the Soviet deportation of Crimean Tatars—a clear allusion to Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea—yet the EBU allowed it, deeming it historical rather than overtly political. Voting blocs, too, reflect geopolitical alliances: Nordic countries often favor each other, as do former Soviet states.

The EBU’s responses have been inconsistent but guided by a core principle: the contest is for public broadcasters, not governments. Russia’s 2022 exclusion followed the invasion of Ukraine and the suspension of its broadcasters for violating EBU membership rules, including independence from state control. Belarus faced a similar fate in 2021 for songs mocking anti-government protests. These were not blanket bans on nations in conflict but targeted actions against rule-breakers. As the EBU reviews participation amid geopolitical tensions, it must apply this standard uniformly.

Israel’s Enduring Place in Eurovision: A Record of Excellence and Inclusion

Israel’s involvement exemplifies why the contest must remain apolitical. Joining in 1973 as a full EBU member—despite its location outside Europe—the country has participated 47 times, securing four victories: 1978’s “A-Ba-Ni-Bi” by Izhar Cohen and Alphabeta, 1979’s “Hallelujah” by Milk and Honey, 1998’s “Diva” by Dana International (the first transgender winner), and 2018’s “Toy” by Netta. It has hosted thrice—in Jerusalem in 1979 and 1999, and Tel Aviv in 2019—drawing global audiences and showcasing cultural diversity.

These triumphs underscore Israel’s contributions: innovative entries blending pop, dance and ethnic influences that have shaped Eurovision’s evolution. Dana International’s win, for instance, advanced LGBTQ+ visibility worldwide. Israel has never finished last, never received zero points, and qualified for the final in 14 of 21 semi-finals. Its broadcaster, Kan, complies with EBU standards, paying dues and submitting rule-abiding songs.

Excluding Israel would ignore this legacy. Unlike Russia, whose broadcasters were suspended for systemic violations, Kan operates independently. Banning Israel for its government’s actions in Gaza would require similar scrutiny of other participants: Should Turkey be barred for its Cyprus occupation? Azerbaijan for its Nagorno-Karabakh conflicts? The EBU’s refusal to hold a vote on Israel’s 2026 participation rightly recognizes that such a slippery slope leads to fragmentation.

Moreover, Israel’s inclusion aligns with Eurovision’s inclusive spirit. As a non-European EBU associate—like Australia since 2015—it expands the contest’s reach. Penalizing it for external politics would contradict the EBU’s charter, which emphasizes cultural exchange over diplomatic disputes.

The 2024 Debacle: Bullying, Threats and Unacceptable Harassment

Last year’s contest in Malmö, Sweden, laid bare the human cost of politicization. Israel’s entrant, 20-year-old Eden Golan, performed “Hurricane” amid unprecedented hostility. Confined to her hotel room for safety, she was surrounded by heavy security and advised against venturing out without disguise due to death threats and protests. Pro-Palestinian demonstrators, numbering in the thousands, booed her during rehearsals and the live show, creating an atmosphere of intimidation.

Worse, fellow contestants engaged in what many described as bullying. Ireland’s Bambie Thug accused the Israeli delegation of misconduct but later faced backlash for their own inflammatory statements. Germany’s Isaak later confirmed Golan was targeted, calling it outright bullying. Such behavior is unacceptable in a contest meant to foster unity. Golan, a young artist with no role in policy-making, became a scapegoat—her performance overshadowed by harassment that echoed darker historical prejudices.

The EBU responded by introducing a code of conduct for 2025, aiming to curb abuse and harassment. Yet the damage was done: Golan’s resilience—finishing fifth despite the boos—highlighted Eurovision’s potential for triumph over adversity, but also the urgent need to protect participants from political vitriol.

Yuval Raphael: From Nova’s Horror to Eurovision’s Spotlight – A Testament to Survival and Song

If Eden Golan’s experience exposed the ugliness of politicized bullying, Yuval Raphael’s story in 2025 illuminated the contest’s redemptive power. The 24-year-old from Ra’anana, a survivor of the Nova music festival massacre, won Israel’s national selection show HaKokhav HaBa (Rising Star) on January 22, 2025, earning the right to represent her country in Basel, Switzerland. On October 7, 2023, Raphael was among the 3,500 revelers at the open-air festival near Kibbutz Re’im when Hamas terrorists stormed the site, killing 360 people and taking dozens hostage. Raphael fled to a roadside bomb shelter with about 50 others, only to endure eight hours of terror: successive waves of gunfire from militants who entered the shelter, firing at point-blank range to confirm their victims were dead. She survived by hiding motionless under a pile of corpses, emerging with shrapnel wounds to her head and a broken leg. Only 11 of those in the shelter lived.

In the massacre’s aftermath, Raphael became an advocate for justice, testifying before the United Nations Human Rights Council in March 2024 about the horrors she witnessed. Music, she later said, became “one of the strongest ingredients in my healing process.” An amateur singer with no professional experience before the trauma, she auditioned for HaKokhav HaBa in November 2024, delivering a stunning rendition of Demi Lovato’s “Anyone” that earned a 98% approval rating. In the January 2025 final, she performed a stripped-down ballad version of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”—a poignant nod to Eurovision’s Swedish roots—dedicating it to “all the angels” murdered at Nova. She also sang Sam Smith’s “Writing’s on the Wall,” securing the judges’ and public’s votes to become Israel’s representative.

Raphael’s entry, the haunting ballad “New Day Will Rise”—written by Keren Peles and produced by Tomer Biran—was unveiled on March 9, 2025, with Hebrew lyrics emphasizing hope and renewal. Despite the shadow of 2024’s controversies, she advanced from the May 15 semifinal with a “soaring performance” that moved the Basel crowd. Spotting fellow Nova survivors in the audience gave her strength, she later shared, turning a moment of potential fear into one of connection.

In the grand final on May 17, Raphael finished second overall with 357 points, topping the public televote with 297 points while placing 14th with juries. “I feel like I’ve won at life,” she said afterward, her voice steady amid the applause. For Raphael, true victory lay not in points but in giving Israelis “a moment of peace amid the madness of war” and bringing hostages home. Her post-contest trajectory—performing at Hostages Square in Tel Aviv and releasing “Amber Skies” for an HBO Max series on October 7—underscores how Eurovision amplified her voice as both artist and survivor.

Raphael’s participation wasn’t without peril. Ahead of Basel, German Culture Minister Wolfram Weimer decried “boycott calls, threats, and verbal attacks” against her as “an intolerable scandal,” noting her Nova survival. Protests persisted, yet her apolitical focus—”I’m 100% on my song”—embodied Eurovision at its best: a platform for personal triumph, not national vendettas.

Boycotts as Antisemitism: Singling Out the Jewish State

The current boycott wave—led by Ireland, Spain, the Netherlands and Slovenia—escalates this toxicity. These nations have withdrawn from 2026, protesting Israel’s inclusion amid the Gaza conflict. While framed as human-rights advocacy, this selective outrage raises alarms—especially after Raphael’s story. Why target Israel alone when other participants have controversial records? This double standard, critics argue, veers into antisemitism by holding the world’s only Jewish state to a unique level of scrutiny, even as it honors survivors like Raphael.

The Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement, which inspires these calls, has been labeled antisemitic by Israeli officials and many Jewish groups for denying Israel’s right to exist and echoing tropes of Jewish control. In cultural spheres like Eurovision, such boycotts isolate Israeli artists, fostering an environment where antisemitic incidents spike—as seen in protests equating Zionism with racism. One observer noted that shunning Israelis in sports or arts constitutes “a new, globalized antisemitism,” particularly when it drowns out voices like Raphael’s message of healing.

Eurovision’s history with Israel includes Arab boycotts in the 1970s and 1980s, when nations like Morocco and Lebanon withdrew upon Israel’s participation. Today’s actions echo this, punishing civilians for government policies. As one analysis put it, anti-Zionism in such contexts often masks antisemitism, especially when demands target Jewish Israelis disproportionately—turning a stage for survivors into a site of exclusion.

Safeguarding Eurovision: Enforce Neutrality, Penalize Politicizers

To survive, Eurovision must reaffirm its apolitical core. The EBU should implement symmetrical penalties: broadcasters boycotting for political reasons face automatic suspension for one to three years. This would deter coercion while ensuring inclusivity. Strengthen rules against political lyrics or gestures, and enhance jury voting to mitigate biases.

Critics claim neutrality is impossible amid global conflicts. But selective boycotts are worse, eroding trust and alienating fans—particularly when they silence stories like Yuval Raphael’s. Allowing Israel to compete protects the contest’s integrity, ensuring it remains a song competition, not a political tribunal. In a divided world, Eurovision’s magic lies in its escapism—and in moments like Raphael’s, where survival meets song. Let’s keep the focus on the music, and leave the megaphones outside.