Eurovision: A case study in how to destroy your own reputation
Few organisations provide such a clear, real-time example of reputational self-sabotage as the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) is doing with Eurovision. From a PR standpoint, it is catastrophic.
Eurovision should be harmless spectacle: artists finally getting their moment on a major stage, cultures intersecting in a uniquely European way, and the continent coming together for a night of kitsch and sequins. Instead, the EBU’s handling of Israel’s participation is turning the contest into a cultural taboo. The fear is not just that countries may withdraw, but that even watching could be framed as a political act of support for Israel.
I am personally predicting that 2026 could see a major boycott. The mood is already building across fan forums and news outlets. Eurovision is meant to be a song contest, yet whoever is running this appears determined to put politics above the music. And the most fascinating part is that no one outside the EBU knows why. Their hands are clearly tied in protecting Israel. I would love to be a fly on the wall in those meetings to understand what makes them willing to sacrifice decades of reputation for one country’s participation.
Framing and narrative: Russia then, Israel now
The contrast in messaging tells the whole story.
EBU statement when banning Russia in 2022:
*“The decision reflects concern that, in light of the unprecedented crisis in Ukraine, the inclusion of a Russian entry in this year’s Contest would bring the competition into disrepute.
The EBU is an apolitical member organization of broadcasters committed to upholding the values of public service.
We remain dedicated to protecting the values of a cultural competition which promotes international exchange and understanding, brings audiences together, celebrates diversity through music and unites Europe on one stage.”*
This was unambiguous. Russia’s presence would damage the brand, so Russia was excluded. The logic was values-driven, and the organisation positioned itself as decisive and protective of Eurovision’s identity.
Martin Green’s 2025 statement on Israel:
*“We understand the concerns and deeply held views around the ongoing conflict in the Middle East. We are still consulting with all EBU Members to gather views on how we manage participation and geopolitical tensions around the Eurovision Song Contest.
Broadcasters have until mid-December to confirm if they wish to take part in next year’s event in Vienna. It is up to each Member to decide if they want to take part in the Contest and we would respect any decision broadcasters make.”*
This is the opposite. It abdicates responsibility, pushes decisions onto broadcasters and delegations, and implies the EBU is comfortable with a fractured contest. In narrative terms, it frames Eurovision not as a cultural event, but as a political loyalty test.
Consistency of precedent
From a PR perspective, the hypocrisy is glaring.
Russia was banned because its inclusion would bring Eurovision into disrepute.
Israel is defended with vague talk of “geopolitical tensions” and “respecting broadcaster decisions.”
Once you set a precedent, you must apply it consistently. By not doing so, the EBU has weakened its credibility and undermined its own authority.
Stakeholder impact
The statement fails multiple audiences at once:
Broadcasters. Instead of reassurance, they are handed the burden of deciding whether to stay or go. This almost guarantees fragmentation and public withdrawals, and it forces them to carry the reputational weight that should sit with the EBU.
Artists and delegations. Many have grown up dreaming of Eurovision. Now, instead of celebrating their moment, they face hostile questions about politics. They must decide whether being part of Eurovision risks being framed as support for Israel. That is an impossible reputational position to put them in.
Fans. The audience is being pushed into a moral dilemma: watch and be accused of supporting Israel, or boycott the contest altogether. Eurovision risks losing its unique position as escapist fun.
Sponsors. Aligning with a divided, politicised event becomes commercially unattractive. Rumours that Moroccanoil’s deal has been extended only fuel perceptions that the contest is compromised.
Why I think Israel is so protected
This is my opinion, based on experience working with broadcasters and networks. I could be completely wrong, but financials alone cannot fully explain it.
Large-scale events like Eurovision are expensive to produce and heavily reliant on sponsorship, rights fees, and guaranteed participation. Israel is not just another participant. Its broadcaster, KAN, is well-resourced compared to smaller members, and its government has historically invested in Eurovision as a tool of cultural diplomacy. Combine that with a presenting partner like Moroccanoil, itself Israeli-owned and rumoured to have extended its sponsorship, and the financial and political ties begin to look very difficult to untangle.
But I do not think this is only about money. In my experience, decisions at this level are also shaped by the personal views of those in power. There are almost certainly people very high up within the EBU who are pro-Israel or who do not accept the framing of events in Gaza as genocide. If that worldview is guiding decision-making at the top, then no amount of financial logic will override it.
What makes this even harder to comprehend is that Spain, one of the “Big Five” countries who contribute the most financially and automatically qualify for the final, has already threatened to boycott if Israel remains. If the EBU is willing to risk losing a Big Five member, it suggests that something deeper than financial pragmatism is driving these choices. That is what makes this crisis so fascinating, and so troubling, from a PR perspective.
Why the statement is so damaging
Breaking it down as a case study:
Abdication of leadership. A governing body exists to lead, not to push responsibility down the chain.
Normalising withdrawal. Publicly saying “we respect any decision” almost invites boycotts.
Reframing the brand. Eurovision is no longer about music, but about whether participation is a moral stance.
Undermining stability. No organisation should imply it is comfortable losing contributors.
Providing activists with leverage. Broadcasters now become pressure points for campaigns, dragging the crisis out for months.
Contradiction with precedent. The Russia ban proves the EBU can act decisively. Choosing not to here exposes selective principles.
Failure to protect artists. Instead of shielding performers, the statement puts them in reputational crossfire.
What they should have said
In a dream world, the obvious option would have been to mirror the Russia precedent and remove Israel altogether:
“In light of the current crisis, Israel will not participate in Eurovision 2026. The values of the contest must come first, and participation at this time would bring the competition into disrepute.”
That would be consistent and values-led, but it is clearly not an option the EBU is willing to take.
A more realistic alternative, one that at least signals leadership without deepening contradictions, might have been:
“The Eurovision Song Contest has always been a space for culture and connection, not conflict. We recognise the seriousness of the current situation in the Middle East and the deep concerns it raises. We are actively reviewing participation standards to ensure consistency with our values, and we are committed to protecting the contest. Our responsibility is to safeguard the artists, the delegations, and the audiences who make Eurovision what it is.”
Even this version avoids a definitive ruling, but it looks like leadership. It frames Eurovision as a cultural space, signals review, and removes the reputational burden from broadcasters and participants.
A contest on the brink
Eurovision is supposed to be playful, colourful, and escapist. But unless the EBU changes course, it risks becoming a litmus test of political morality. Watching will be judged. Participating will be condemned.
The tragedy is that this crisis is entirely self-inflicted. The EBU has already shown it can act decisively when it wants to. Now, for reasons that may be financial, ideological, or both, it is choosing not to. The outcome is the same. Eurovision 2026 is shaping up less as a song contest and more as a boycott battleground.
From a PR perspective, this is extraordinary. Eurovision is walking a contradiction that undermines decades of goodwill, alienates its fan base, and puts artists and delegations in impossible positions. Unless leadership is restored, Eurovision may soon be remembered not as a celebration, but as a taboo, a textbook case study in how weak communication, inconsistent precedent, and financial or ideological entanglements can destroy a brand.