Today, Azerbaijan
May 20 2006
Telegraph: “Armenia should establish Nagorno Karabakh as a separate
state”
Ed West in his article “You need friends to win in Eurovision” for
Britain’s Telegraph online edition interferes in the internal affairs
of Azerbaijan.
The latest act in the Yugoslav drama plays out tomorrow when tiny
Montenegro votes on independence from Serbia. And while Croatia’s
tragic schism with the Serbs was provoked by football rivalry, the
final nail in the federation’s coffin is karaoke.
These old allies, who fought together against Croats, Albanians and
Nato, are on the point of rupture over their joint representative at
the Eurovision Song Contest, held tonight in Athens. In the Serbian
version of A Song For Europe, Montenegrin judges were accused of
tactically voting for compatriots No Name ahead of Serbian favourites
Flamingoes, leading to uproar from a hostile Belgrade crowd and the
terrified Montenegrin boy band being escorted out by security.
With typical Balkan bloody-mindedness, the Serbians withdrew
altogether, and neither country got to appear. To add insult to
injury, their place was allotted to the best semi-finalist… Croatia.
Controversy has been a staple of Eurovision, established 50 years ago
by the European Broadcasting Union in the spirit of fostering
European unity. And while the British treat Eurovision as a joke, for
Europe’s small nations it is their moment in the sun. After wins for
Estonia in 2001, Latvia in 2002 and Ukraine in 2004, tomorrow Armenia
arrives on the big stage, and nationalist controversy is already
rampant. Neighbouring Azerbaijan is none too happy that Armenian
entrant André has listed his place of birth as “Republic of Nagorno
Karabakh”. An Armenian MP has also complained that the song,
containing Turkish words, is not “Armenian enough”.
But really, instead of trying to absorb Nagorno Karabakh, Armenia’s
government should establish it as a separate state, thereby creating
a voting buddy. That’s the way Eurovision works: a Cypriot entry
could simply walk on stage and belch, and still be sure of 12 votes
from the Greeks.
Various research papers have identified patterns of voting blocs,
including the Viking, Slavic and Balkan groups and even an
impressive-sounding Spanish-Andorran alliance. Lordi, Finland’s entry
and the contest’s first-ever death-metal band, may not do for all
tastes, but they can be confident the Swedes will help out, as they
did for most of Finland’s previous attempts, including Chirpy Chirp,
the mysterious Pump Pump and the bizarre, accordion-led reggae
interpretation Reggae OK.
Likewise, seven-times winner Ireland can always rely on a generous
score from the UK, almost as if it were a clause in the 1921 Treaty.
And Germany often favours its eastern neighbours with guilt points
(there probably is a German word for it), while everyone in Europe
gives generously to Israel’s interesting renditions. (No one is
exactly sure why Israel is even in Eurovision, save for the suspicion
that it would not do well in a Middle Eastovision, least of all with
a trans-sexual diva like Dana International.)
So if Eurovision is all about friends, what about Le Royaume-Uni? As
with the Common Market and European Football Championships, Britain
failed to enter the first Eurovision, which subsequently developed a
French feel. Indeed, we have long suspected that the whole thing is a
continental carve-up.
Back in 1988, Scott Fitzgerald was way ahead of his Swiss rival with
just two votes to go, but failed to get any reward from the Yugoslav
or French panels. The following day on radio phone-ins many callers
claimed that communist Yugoslavia had favoured neutral Switzerland
over Nato Britain, while no explanation was needed for the French
decision.
And with ever greater eastern participation, Britain has declined
from annual favourite to third-rate mediocrity, the low point coming
in 2003 when Jemini’s Cry Baby left the UK pointless, although
everyone was too busy focusing on Russian teen lesbians Tatu, who
finished third behind a Turkish “oriental-style rap” and a Belgian
entry sung in an imaginary language (an good way to settle the
Flemish-Walloon conflict).
The Belgians could do this because the restriction on singing in a
foreign language, designed to protect national culture but in reality
a Canute-style Francophone struggle against Americanisation, was
dropped in 1999. It worked: Poland was first to break the Old Europe
stranglehold by singing in the language of rock and roll, and came
second on its debut.
At the other end of the scale, the Swiss had one of their worst
results when they performed a number in the country’s tiny Rhaeto
Romantic tongue.
In retrospect, the greatest tragedy of Eurovision was that it gave
the world the “Swiss” representative Celine Dion. (French-Canadian
Dion is not the only foreigner to have triumphed: in 1980 and 1987
Ireland won with Australian Johnny Logan, while Estonia’s winner was
a West Indian who could not speak a word of the language, and remains
the only black singer to ever win Eurovision.)
So how can Britain take back the title? Or – a better question – do
we in fact want Daz Sampson’s Teenage Life to bring the prize back to
Blighty? With the expense involved in hosting Eurovision, winning has
become something of a white elephant. In one episode of Father Ted,
the Irish judges deliberately choose an abysmal dirge by Craggy
Island’s finest to lose for Ireland.
This trick was strongly rumoured to have actually happened in 1979,
when the Spanish judges gave maximum points to main rivals Israel. So
do not fear if we are left without friends in Europe; in the long
term it will cost us less.