The grand finale of the Eurovision Song Contest – the annual bedecked, exuberant, and kitschy celebration of European culture, community, and nationalism – opens this year without one of the “Big 5” backers. Breaking its 64-year participation streak, Spain – along with Ireland, Slovenia, the Netherlands, and Iceland – is boycotting due to Israel’s inclusion.
With just 35 countries participating, this Eurovision competition has the fewest number of contestants since the start of the current semi-final system in 2006. Yet, even as political pressures mount, the stage performances continue to highlight Eurovision’s long tradition of glitz, jokes lost in translation, and the recurring themes of motherhood, supernatural forces, and fire. Here’s the backstory, and what to expect when the lights turn on in Vienna for the Eurovision finale at 9 p.m. central European time on May 16.
Boycotts and backroom politics
In the fall of 2025, Iceland’s public broadcaster RÚV first voiced opposition to Israel’s continued participation in light of the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, a sentiment quickly seconded by the public broadcasters in Ireland and the Netherlands. But Spain’s announced boycott plans actually set off a cascade of backroom political discussions. The European Broadcasting Union (EBU) frequently references its apolitical stance, banning symbols of political protest on the Eurovision stage and seeking to minimize the sounds of the audience and outside protesters. Yet, political subtext abounds. For example, the EBU required Israel to change the title and lyrics of its 2024 entry, “October Rain” (the new version: “Hurricane”). The EBU was slow to ban Russia after its 2014 invasion of Ukrainian territory, but ultimately did so in 2022. Despite similar demands, the EBU has yet to ban Israel.
As one of the “Big 5“ (France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom), Spain has for decades contributed disproportionately towards the cost of Eurovision and receives in turn a permanent position in the Saturday finals. According to an investigation by New York Times reporters, the potential of losing a Big 5 member initially led to the announcement of a member vote on Israel’s participation, but the announced vote was ultimately dropped in light of the Israel-Hamas ceasefire.
And the Eurovision controversies continue
The same New York Times report highlighted the Israeli government’s active moves to promote not just Israel’s participation this year but also its success – with paid advertising encouraging supporters in other countries to vote for Israel’s entry since at least 2018. The disparity between Eurovision public voting and juries had already raised concerns about fairness: Some Eurovision commentators thought the public vote was rigged, while others believed the jury vote was rigged.
To date, the EBU has minimized the effect of strategic voting. The New York Times’ voting analysis highlights unexpected support for Israeli contestants in ostensibly pro-Palestinian publics (including Spain) – and demonstrates how generous voting rules make it possible for relatively few voters to concentrate all their votes (e.g., for Israel) to exert disproportionate sway in the final tally. While the EBU continues to minimize the voting controversy, we’ll see new public voting rules this year, aimed at limiting each individual to just 10 votes. And in this year’s semi-finals, the presenters have promoted the fairness of spreading one’s votes to multiple contestants. Yes, it’s just a song contest, but Israel’s apparent popularity appears to be a point of pride. Public relations by the government may also be instrumental in protecting Israel’s public broadcaster independence.
For the countries boycotting Eurovision 2026, their choice of alternative programming during the Eurovision contest is also raising controversy. Spain will broadcast a musical program called “La casa de la música” during the grand finale. But the Slovenian broadcaster RTV will be airing “Voices of Palestine.” Ireland’s public broadcaster opted to broadcast “Father Ted” instead, which set off its own mini-controversy as the show’s writer Graham Linehan has characterized the decision as an act of antisemitism.
Celebrating Eurovision mothers
Two singers within this year’s cohort have turned Eurovision into an unexpectedly emotional Mother’s Day special. A parental hook isn’t new (see the surprisingly upbeat 2024 tribute to his late parents by the Netherlands’ Joost Klein), but it will likely help Greece snatch a few points from the jury for a song that is already afan favorite. Akylas represents Greece with “Ferto,” an anti-consumerist anthem that abruptly pauses midway to pay a heartfelt tribute to his mother. Reflecting on a difficult childhood marked by economic hardship, Akylas promises to buy her all the things they couldn’t afford growing up – if he wins the competition, of course.
In contrast, Alis, representing Albania, tears at parents’ hearts with his song “Nân.” Backed on stage by larger-than-life images of mothers, Alis sings about migration, separation, and the unconditional love of mothers for children who may never return home.
The dark and spooky songs, beyond the glitter
Eurovision has always showcased a flair for the dark and dramatic, but this year’s contestants seem determined to summon a demon – or perhaps exorcise one. The 2026 edition may go down in Eurovision history as the year with the eeriest and most disturbing stagings (yes, even more than Iceland in 2019 and Ireland in 2024). If you seek the antithesis of generic Europop, we recommend Serbia’s progressive metal song “Kraj Mene” by Lavina. The band’s self-described “anti-competition” song ends in frantic screams. Montenegro, Lithuania, and Croatia also distinguish themselves from the standard see-through shirts and sequins – check out the shadowy staging, tattoos, and elaborate costuming.
Fire, violins – make that fire with violins
The official slogan for the contest is “United By Music.” But Eurovision stalwarts and satirists know the real uniting thread: fire and violins. The obsession became so obvious that the parody song “Love, Love, Peace, Peace” immortalized these props as the essential ingredients to win Eurovision. Judging from this year’s contest, delegations took the video as an official guideline rather than satire.
The acts from France, Portugal, and Luxembourg all prominently feature violins on stage, even though the sound isn’t miked for the performance. Germany decided that subtlety was overrated and presented a song called “Fire,” and staged it accordingly. And yes, in case you were wondering, the song does sound and look like a ripoff of Cyprus’ 2018 entry “Fuego.”
Finland, on the other hand, couldn’t choose between pyrotechnics and string instruments, but included both in the spirit of Eurovision excess. The song “Liekinheitin” (Flamethrower), this year’s frontrunner, features violinist Linda Lampenius playing live on stage – a twist in a contest where instruments are typically pre-recorded. Naturally, the performance also contains fire. Lots of fire.
Countries singing in random languages
Continuing the trend started by Estonia’s 2025 song “Espresso Macchiato,” performed in an incoherent mixture of English and fake Italian, Eurovision 2026 has embraced linguistic chaos. This year, a bewildering number of countries seemingly chose languages not because of cultural connections, but because they vaguely sound Eurovision-y.
The most conspicuous example is perhaps the United Kingdom entry, sung in German in the song “Eins, Zwei, Drei” (One, Two, Three). Lithuania partially switches into Spanish for reasons known only to the Lithuanian delegation, while Israel includes French for the second year in a row. Apparently, Israel is tired of letting France monopolize the French language.
Then there is Moldova. “Viva, Moldova!” is an aggressively patriotic song – but Satoshi somehow manages to combine Romanian, English, Spanish, Italian, French, and Hawaiian phrases in under three minutes.
And this year’s controversy champion?
No Eurovision season is complete without at least one song causing moral panic somewhere in Europe. This year, Romania, following a two-year hiatus from the contest, has emerged as the undisputed champion of controversy. Its entry “Choke Me” – one of the public’s favorites to win – has sparked fierce debate over whether it glorifies sexual strangulation.
The Romanian representative, Alexandra Căpitănescu, has explained that the song is actually about emotional pressure, insecurity, and self-doubt. Still, lyrics such as “All I need is your love / I want you to choke me” have understandably led some viewers to suspect there may be a more sexual interpretation lurking under the song’s metaphor. Eurovision fans, following in true Eurovision fashion, have taken their job very seriously and turned this controversy into a full-fledged geopolitical crisis on social media.
You can listen to all the songs from the 2026 edition of the Eurovision Song Contest here.
Alexandra Guisinger is an associate professor of political science at Temple University, co-principal investigator of the Foreign Policy in a Diverse Society project, and author of American Opinion on Trade: Preferences without Politics (Oxford University Press, 2017).
Mateo Perez Presmanes is a fourth-year undergraduate student at Temple University studying political science and global studies. His research interests include cultural diplomacy, soft power, and national identity.
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