Nul Points for “Neutrality” 

by Ellie Somers 

Growing up in Ireland, the Eurovision Song Contest always held a special place in my heart. Even those who would scoff and roll their eyes at its mention in the weeks leading up to the competition would have them fixed to the television by the time the semi-finals rolled around to see if we would qualify. We usually didn’t, but that did little to quell the vehement debates that would take place in the classroom the Monday morning after the final. At the time, it represented a sequin-studded and latex-clad celebration of inclusivity. I would go as far as to say it is one of the only genuinely shared cultural phenomena Europe still has, which is why I am increasingly troubled by what has transpired over the last few years of the competition. 

This year, Ireland, Spain, Iceland, Slovenia and the Netherlands withdrew from the contest over Israel’s continued inclusion, all the while their soldiers carry out ongoing, intentional and systematic destruction of the Palestinian people in the Gaza Strip. In an uncharacteristically witty display of defiance, national broadcaster RTÉ aired the Father Ted episode A Song for Europe in its place, meaning that Irish viewers were treated to a spectacular performance by the finalists of Europe’s biggest music competition instead of this year’s Eurovision. 

While RTÉ opted for humour as a means of rebellion, a very obvious sadness lingered over things in Vienna. Eurovision thrives on the innately bizarre, spurred by its extravagance and camaraderie among participating nations. This year, it took a tense and joyless turn for the worse as those involved tried increasingly hard not to acknowledge what the competition has become; this lack of synchronicity was ironically encapsulated by the stale attempts of its hosts. To put it lightly, this competition, once a well-oiled machine, is in dire need of restoration. 

The Eurovision Broadcasting Union purports the contest as being “apolitical” [1]; however, their efforts might be more convincing if they were not built entirely around countries performing for an international audience. I wonder how they would describe Austria’s boycott of Francoist Spain in 1969, then, if not political, or Ukraine’s win coinciding with Russia’s participation ban in 2022? Not to mention what the competition has come to represent for the LGBTQ+ community as one of the few openly gay spaces on television, long before corporations adopted the use of rainbow coloured logos for a feeble thirty days a year. It seems to me that the EBU can dish it out but can’t take it, no longer willing to control the politics it helps unleash. 

If these claims weren’t absurd enough, 2026 marked Eurovision’s sixth consecutive year officially partnering with Moroccanoil, an Israeli cosmetics company headquartered in New York. At the same time countries were withdrawing from the competition, and protestors were gathering outside the arena, Eurovision’s website invited viewers into the “Moroccanoil Backstage Bubble”, where performers could enjoy the “excitement surrounding the competition” with expert stylists and argan oil-infused hair treatments [2]. It’s an apt metaphor for the competition itself, really, because while inside the arena, attendees were stupefied by carefully regulated glamour and corporate-friendly teleprompters soullessly preaching unity, outside, the streets filled with chants and protests over whether Israel should have been allowed to compete at all. 

Controversy over potential voter fraud soured attitudes even further. Reports that the Israeli government had encouraged supporters to vote for their country twenty times (the maximum number of votes granted per person) through international campaigns – a billboard on Times Square last year, for one, a mere fifteen-minute stroll from Moroccanoil headquarters – undermined the integrity of the public vote. What, by definition, should feel organic and representative of the talent on the night resembled much more a demonstration of political mobilisation. Then again, perhaps we are past the point of no return in that regard. 

Our decision to quietly retreat from the competition and stick on an episode of Father Ted instead feels beautifully Irish. The show’s co-creator and outspoken transphobe, Graham Linehan, would tell a different story. He reacted with outrage, accusing RTÉ of “antisemitic harassment” [3]. Reducing any and all criticism of the Israeli apartheid to antisemitism is a dangerous misconception and only cheapens the word, removing the ability for serious discussion. Frankly, the notion that the majority of people most horrified by Israel’s actions are motivated by hatred is farcical. In reality, we are reacting to harrowing images of devastation that have become impossible to separate from the glossy dreamscape Eurovision wants desperately to continue selling. 

Going forward, if the Eurovision Song Contest’s wishes are granted, it will carry on presenting itself as a joyous festivity of togetherness while depending solely on nationalism to function, on some liminal plane entirely removed from geopolitical crises. This year, however, there were simply a few too many cracks in the genie’s lamp. 

References 

[1] O’Regan, Ellen. ‘We’re not the United Nations’: Top official defends Eurovision ahead of tense final. POLITICO, May 16, 2026. https://www.politico.eu/article/eurovision-united-nations-top-official-defends-ahead-of-tense-final/ 

[2] Eurovision Song Contest. Partners. Webpage accessed May 20, 2026. https://www.eurovision.com/pages/partners/ 

[3] Carroll, Rory. Irish TV to air Father Ted instead of Eurovision final in protest against Israel’s inclusion. The Guardian, May 12, 2026. https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2026/may/12/irish-tv-rte-father-ted-eurovision-final-israel