How times change! The Eurovision Song Contest began way back in 1956 as a technical experiment in television broadcasting to a global audience. It was hosted within the Swiss-Italian lakeside city of Lugano, and 7 nations took part: the Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, Germany, France, Luxembourg and Italy. The UK was apparently too busy with its own contest and sent apologies.
Eurovision was originally, because the name implies, a European enterprise, but now contestants come from internationally, with 37 different countries collaborating this 12 months – whittled all the way down to 26 for the ultimate.
Back within the day it was a well-liked, if moderately bland, affair, with anodyne songs and respectful contestants, all dressed alike in evening wear and glossy shoes. Husband and wife duo, Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson, nailed the mood in 1959 with a chirpy little number entitled Sing Little Birdie – on the time seen as something of a departure from the more usual weight loss plan of ballads. But the adventurous gamble paid off, since it got attention and won them second place. Overall, the word ‘chaste’ involves mind, and, until recently, that is been just about what Eurovision was all about. A jolly and undemanding evening, showcasing European solidarity. Good fun, all round!
Fast forward to 2024, and a moderately different picture emerges. For a start, the competition is now global, with entrants from as far afield as Australia, Israel, and Azerbaijan, to call but just a few, while the vast majority of competitors seem scantily clad and moderately ‘raunchy’ – admiringly described by the BBC as ‘ magical and moving and bizarre’. There’s the standard weight loss plan of throbbing love songs, after all, but at the identical time most of the entries appear to have moved a way beyond that. The UK entry, for instance, described as set in a ‘post-apocalyptic boxing gym, aboard an area ship hurtling towards earth’, has a support group of exclusively male dancers, who energetically gyrate around singer Olly Alexander, making the performance a highly sexualised celebration and promotion of gay love.
Also carrying a message, albeit moderately different, is Ireland’s entry. Performed by a non-binary singer with the unlikely name of Bambie Thug – described in publicity as a ‘goth gremlin goblin witch’ – it features what’s been labelled a candlelit séance. Till ordered to remove them, Bambie also had the words ‘Ceasefire’ and ‘Free Palestine’ written across face and body in Ogham, an ancient Irish alphabet. One may conclude, given the occult tone of the entire, that Bambie Thug was attempting to forged a spell.
A far cry from Eurovision’s original vision of an apolitical and healthful songfest that might transcend political difference and draw the nations together. And the entire sorry affair has, without query, been made infinitely worse this 12 months by the protests of pro-Palestinian supporters, demanding Israel be removed due to continuing conflict in Gaza. Never mind the very fact this was a murderous conflict began by Hamas – which could possibly be ended overnight, if the terrorist group would only return the hostages and comply with stop hostilities – pro-Palestinian demonstrators have been unremitting of their call for Israel to be barred.
The threats of violence have indeed been so bad that Israeli entrant Eden Golan, for her own safety, has needed to be confined to her room, while extra police have been drafted into Malmo, not only from across Sweden, but from neighbouring Denmark and Norway as well – all reportedly carrying larger and more powerful weapons than usual in order to fulfill the threat.
Feel good? No, say activists … feel afraid.
The sad truth is, Eurovision has grow to be a mirror for our fractured, decadent, and increasingly pagan society, all cloaked in glitz, glamour and sequins. A vehicle for interest groups to pound home their message, whether that be sexual libertarianism, good old-fashioned anarchy, or attempted political manipulation and control.
So here’s a thought, for the longer term let’s forget misplaced attempts to rebrand world culture and rating points, and as a substitute consider just celebrating music and having a great time.
Rev Lynda Rose is founding father of Voice for Justice UK, a bunch which works to uphold the moral values of the Bible in society.
