Eurozone crisis, growing mistrust of institutions, Brexit, divisions over migration policy, lovesick Franco-German couple, war in Ukraine, rise of populism… It is an understatement to say that the Europe has hardly had the opportunity to pop the champagne in recent years. In this ambient gloom, there remains one event, which every year, in May, brings a smile back to Europeans, gathered together in front of their television screens: the Eurovision final.
The competition created in 1956 by the Swiss Marcel Bezençon is the most watched non-sporting event in the world. In 2022, the two semi-finals as well as the final brought together 161 million viewers who witnessed, not without a certain emotion, the coronation of the Ukrainian group Kalush Orchestra, in the geopolitical context that everyone knows. By way of comparison, the last Super Bowl final in the United States was watched by some 110 million people.
Everyone sings in English? Fake !
However, here and there, especially in France, Eurovision is derided. Too kitsch, too old-fashioned, some would say. A little music that sounds, by force, like a chorus of bad taste tinged with bitterness. We must indeed go back to 1977 and “The bird and the child” by Marie Myriam to find a French victory. For others, Eurovision is too geopolitical, even rigged. Sweden giving Norway 12 points. The Italy that never forgets San Marino. Cyprus which rewards Greece… The examples are legion. But let’s be frank, is it so shocking to see countries that are culturally and historically close to each other acclaim each other on the music scene? Remember that the vote is the result of a double decision: that of the jury and that of the public, which has demonstrated in recent editions that it can thwart the predictions. It is not geopolitical votes that deprive France of victory. The last 15 editions have seen 13 different countries triumph, ranging from Sweden to the Netherlands via Israel and Serbia. Finally, there are all those who deplore the fact that artists only have Shakespeare’s tongue in their mouths. Again, let’s rely on the facts. Of the 26 countries that will defend their colors this Saturday night in Liverpool, 15 will sing in English. It may still be too much, but what other cultural event offers the opportunity to hear French, Spanish, Italian, Croatian or even Finnish on the same evening? Let’s not even talk about the members of the group Vesna who this year in their song alternate Czech, Ukrainian and Bulgarian. Note in passing that Portugal won in 2017 with a song in… Portuguese, and Italy in 2021 with a title… in Italian.
Eurovision is unity in diversity. It is also solidarity. They may have voted for Brexit, but the British were the first to offer to organize the 2023 edition in Liverpool, which Ukraine, winner last year, could not for obvious reasons host on its territory. Whatever the errors of taste, the false notes, Eurovision is also Europe that does not take itself seriously, and that’s good. The artists who parade on stage not only remind us of the importance of putting a little rhinestone and glitter in your life. Through their music, they send messages of tolerance, peace and openness to the world, thus spreading our beautiful European values beyond our borders. A good-natured life-size show, which in its 67 years of existence has never given rise to any overflow and has become so popular worldwide that for the past ten years Australia has been invited to participate. The United States even launched last year, albeit unsuccessfully, their own version of Eurovision.
It is fashionable, and let’s say it sometimes justified, to mock, to blame this European construction which is both too technocratic within its borders and too naive vis-à-vis external threats. Yet there are so many reasons to celebrate this Old Continent, which despite storms and obscurantist temptations, has managed to remain a land of freedom and tolerance, a model that many elsewhere envy us. Saturday evening, we will see 26 candidates parade who, at the end of their song, will all address the crowd a “Thank you Europe”. Saturday night, you, me, your brother, my mother, may vote for the Swedish favorite Loreen, a Slovenian group, the Lithuanian Celine Dion or a Finn singing “Cha cha cha” dressed in a kind of neon green bolero. Maybe somewhere in Georgia or near Lisbon, a viewer will pick up his phone to try to win (good luck to him) La Zarra, the candidate of France. When points are awarded, each country will begin its speech with the essential “Hello Liverpool, hello Europe!”. The magnificent opening credits composed by Marc-Antoine Charpentier will already be far behind us, but at the end of the evening and for a good part of the night, the Ode to Joy will resound again in the heart of every European.
