There are two posts I could have written about the latest Eurovision song contest. One would focus on another controversy over Israel’s participation and high vote count. The other would focus on the first-time win for Bulgaria; a well-deserved win in my opinion. I choose the latter.

Another Israel controversy

Despite saying I wouldn’t write a post about Israel, I feel like I need to at least acknowledge the controversy. As I’ve written in previous Eurovision posts, there have been overlapping attacks on Israel’s role in the song contest.

One has to do with Israel’s participation in the first place. Some have argued that since Russia was excluded due to its invasion of Ukraine, Israel should be excluded as well. As Amnesty International put it, there should be a “cost for Israel’s atrocity crimes,” and its participation in Eurovision allows it to “deflect” attention from its actions in Gaza and the West Bank. This year, five countries refused to participate due to Israel’s presence.

Critics have argued Eurovision deploys double standards in favor of Israel, but the same could be said about the critics. Azerbaijan seized the Armenian enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh in 2023, leading many of its inhabitants to flee; it wasn’t excluded from Eurovision. Other states with questionable human rights records have been in the context. If anything, I think Eurovision—and other cultural bodies—may have been too quick to ban Russian participants as a penalty for their government’s actions. And the contest organizers need to address this controversy instead of wishing it would go away, which it isn’t.

The other tensions over Israel have to do with the votes it receives. Eurovision winners are decided partly by professional judges and partly by voters. It’s a bit of a complicated system, with each country voting and then the top 10 vote getters receiving points. There’s often a divergence between the two, with the juries preferring boring operatic ballads and the voters preferring fun, interesting songs (not to editorialize). The tension had to do with the fact that Israel’s candidates have received massive amounts of popular votes in each contest since October 7th. In this year’s contest, they were #1 until Bulgaria surged ahead. People have argued this is unfair, or the result of cheating.

Bulgaria’s win means something beyond the music.

While there are legitimate debates to be had about when to exclude a country from Eurovision, the voting “scandal” is on less solid ground. There was no evidence of cheating. It is true that the Israeli government lobbied supporters of Israel in the voting publics to back the Israeli candidate, something the New York Times revealed in a very in-depth report. And the Israeli government was officially warned after directing fans to give all their votes to the Israeli candidate. Also, the contest changed this year, with national juries weighing in semi-finals as well as the final.

Despite all this, Israel’s Noam Bettan still almost won, as I said. Maybe Israeli lobbying had an effect on the outcomes, which—while not illegal—is against the spirit of the competition. But this is not unique to Israel. Azerbaijan previously intervened in the voting process as a result of its tensions with Armenia. Academic studies have found an impact of diasporas and cultural ties on voting. Some have also found evidence for lobbying effects. Moreover, Israel has been in the final nearly every time it participated, and has won 4 times, so gaining support in recent contests isn’t that surprising. Israel is pushing it with its official lobbying, so the contest organizers maybe need to tighten rules on that.

Bulgaria’s victory

But there’s another side. Every article about Eurovision just talks about Israel. When I brought it up to friends and colleagues who weren’t familiar with it, they would say something like “oh, there’s some controversy about Israel, right?”

There was so much more to the contest than that. There was the enchantingly bizarre, like Lithuania’s Lion Ceccha. There was the fun, like Greece’s Akylas. There were songs I wanted to find cheesy, but couldn’t help but enjoy, like Sal Da Vinci’s “Per Sempre Si.” And then there were the crowd favorites in my house that disappointingly didn’t make it to the final, specifically Estonia’s Vanilla Ninja.

And then there was the winner. I had missed part of the semi-final 2, when Bulgaria’s Dara first performed, so it was new to me when she finally appeared in the final. Her song, “Bangaranga,” deserved to win. It was full of tonal shifts, driving beats and linguistic shifts that captivated us when it came on. The choreography perfectly captured the manic energy of the song. And its personal nature, inspired by Dara’s struggle with anxiety and ADHD, gave it added heft. We all cheered when she won.

I know it sounds cheesy, but I like celebrating something that brings Jamaican slang, personal meaning, and Bulgarian folk practices together.

The win also means something beyond the music. It was a first for Bulgaria, which is always important for national pride. And it came at a crucial moment for that country. Bulgaria’s has been stuck in a political crisis that was recently resolved with the formation of a Euro-skeptic government. But the new government’s officials are trying to reassure Europe that Bulgaria remains committed to the European Union and won’t serve Russian interests. Bulgaria’s Eurovision victory reinforces that, for both Europe and Bulgaria.

I know this sounds cheesy but…

When I brought up Eurovision in an attempt to make small talk with colleagues, the few who follow it teased me for indoctrinating my kids into a “dorky” past-time. And yeah, as someone who hates American Idol, I get it. But Eurovision feels like it’s more than that.

Each contest is a chance for countries to show off their talent and culture. It’s a chance for the host to show off their wonders. It’s a chance for people from all over the viewing public to cheer and dance together. And it’s an opportunity for Americans to watch in envy, thanks to Peacock’s stream of the contest.

Bulgaria’s song is a perfect example of this. As I noted, it has a personal meaning to the singer. Its title comes from a Jamaican term for joyful disorder or mischief. It is apparently partially inspired by kukeri, a Bulgarian folk tradition. I know it sounds cheesy, but I like celebrating something that brings all of that together. So I will.