Swiss direct democracy is Eurovision’s latest challenge

Swiss rapper Nemo at the 2024 Eurovision in Malmö, Sweden. The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.

As Switzerland prepares to name the host city for next year’s Eurovision Song Contest, political and financial wrangles have entered the fray – par for the course, experts say, though the Swiss system of direct democracy poses unique challenges. 

In a 1996 episode of the Irish comedy series Father Ted, two hapless priests decide to write a tune for the upcoming “Eurosong” (i.e. Eurovision) contest. Despite being one of the worst songsExternal link in history, fictional or otherwise, My Lovely Horse is chosen as Ireland’s entry – and it royally flops. The show was based on real-life speculation that the country had tried to engage in Eurovision self-sabotage; with four victories in the 1990s, it was becoming costly to stage the event every year, the rumours went (the winning nation always hosts the contest the following year).

For Switzerland, which won this year’s event, it’s too late for such drastic action. In May, artist Nemo took home the trophy with what was widely hailed as a good songExternal link; as a result, next May, the Eurovision is coming to the Alpine nation for the third time. There’s no shortage of potential venues: the cities of Basel, Geneva, Zurich, and Bern/Biel initially all expressed interest in hosting the event, which this year was watched live by some 163 million people.  
 
On July 19, The Swiss Broadcasting Corporation (SBC, swissinfo.ch’s parent company) whittled this shortlist down to Basel and Geneva, before a final decision is to be made by the end of August. 

Opponents: Eurovision is too expensive, ‘controversial’ and ‘occultist’

Even in comparatively rich Switzerland, debates about the cost have flourished – largely thanks to the country’s federalist and direct democratic system. In Zurich and Bern, public funding of CHF20 million ($22.6 million) and CHF7 million respectively for hosting Eurovision was challenged by referendums; the same is yet threatened in Basel and Geneva. Some opponents claim taxpayer money shouldn’t be used to fund a “controversial” event which this year was accompanied by anti-Israel protests. Others, from the small and ultra-conservative Federal Democratic Union party, reckon Eurovision is linked to “satanism” and “occultism”.  

Given that voters in all initial host city candidates tend to lean left and progressive (and thus potentially pro-Eurovision), does such an opposition tactic “reduce the democratic tool of the referendum to absurdity”, as Tamedia newspapers recently wroteExternal link? No, says Daniel Kübler, a politics professor at the University of Zurich. 

In Switzerland, local challenges to financial decisions are “daily business”, he says. “They are factored into the [political] system, everything has to go slower as a result.” This has affected big international events in the past: in 2018, for instance, voters in Valais rejected a bid to bring the Winter Olympics to the canton. In the case of Eurovision, “if you need to decide fast, you simply have to find financing methods not subject to referendum”, Kübler says – whether from the private sector, or from the SBC (which is already covering part of the costs).  

What will happen next is unclear. Kübler says the small number of signatures needed to force a local referendum (2,400 in the city of Geneva, 2,000 in Basel) is not necessarily a major hurdle. Finding a majority to block the credit would be more difficult, especially for a “tiny” group like the Federal Democratic Union – even if it had the backing of some sections of the larger Swiss People’s Party.  
 
But uncertainty remains, especially since even a failed referendum bid could stall the process long enough to wreck the planning of a big event. Meanwhile, Kübler says, the option of the federal government jumping in to guarantee funding would send a negative political signal undermining the decentralised nature of Swiss democracy.  

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Eurovision costs and benefits

Yet while Switzerland’s direct democracy makes it an outlier in allowing votes on such issues, opposition to Eurovision – whether for financial or political reasons – is part and parcel of the competition’s history, says Dean Vuletic, historian and author of Postwar Europe and the Eurovision Song Contest.  

The cost of hosting the event has notably been a chief problem, Vuletic says. Over time, the European Broadcasting Union (EBU), the main organiser of the event, has tried to make the price tag “more bearable”, whether by pooling resources, opening up to commercial sponsors, or selling tickets for big arena shows. But the issue remains. In the early decades of the contest, Vuletic says, there were even some countries – usually smaller ones like Luxembourg or Israel – who opted not to host due to costs. More recently, inflation and economic downturns haven’t helped, and have led to some countries pulling out of the contest altogether. 

But he says that no matter the price tag, there are always cities and countries keen to host: in terms of tourism, branding, or image, Eurovision simply “brings a lot of benefits”. In the case of 2023 host Liverpool, the global marketing benefit was estimated at almost €800 million, according to a study cited by the Neue Zürcher Zeitung. Others sayExternal link the benefit of hosting such big events is only short-term. But there are clear winners: in Zurich, for example – before a decision about the host city was even made – some hotels were already booked out for next May, while others were massively increasing prices, the Tages-Anzeiger reported.

The Austrian example: Conchita Wurst 

As for the widespread Swiss media coverage and debates, this is also “absolutely normal”, Vuletic says. From 2013-2015, he was based at the University of Vienna – at exactly the moment when Conchita Wurst’s Eurovision victory brought the event to Austria. “That whole year, between winning and hosting, was all about how to organise it and what it meant for Austria’s international image,” he says. There was far-right criticism of Conchita, a drag artist, but there were also debates about how she could help Austria dust off its traditional association to mountains, classical music, and Hapsburg history. 

Not all countries approach Eurovision in the same way, Vuletic says. But he expects Switzerland – as another modern, central European country – to see a similar process unfold over the next 10 months as Austria did a decade ago. Eurovision is a way for countries to ask questions like “what’s missing in the international perception of us?” or “what do we want to emphasise?” he says. In the Swiss case, is it cowbells, Alps, the stereotypical touristic images? Or is it a chance to show off Swiss society’s diversity and creativity – a debate which non-binary Nemo, winner of this year’s event, has also managed to spark?

Eurovision as change agent 

Ultimately however, Eurovision is not necessarily the driving force for change that its detractors seem to fear. The competition is full of contradictions, loved by “dictators and drag queens” alike, and with only a “questionable” impact on democratisation and openness, Vuletic says. For example, in 2009, Moscow hosted the most lavish edition ever of the competition; three years later, Azerbaijan rivalled it by splashing out to host its first international mega-event. In both cases, Eurovision was used as a chance to boost international image; neither country has since become a poster child for civil liberties. 

Whether as a lightning rod for political debates, culture wars, or tight public finances, Eurovision has always done more to “reflect rather than effect societal change”, Vuletic says. 

Edited by Veronica DeVore

This article was updated on July 19 to reflect the choice of potential host cities Basel and Geneva by the Swiss Broadcasting Corporation.

Amendment July 27: this article previously incorrectly stated the name of the Federal Democratic Union party as the Christian Democratic Union