Malta’s Momentum Movement Calls for Eurovision Boycott Over Israel Participation

**Momentum joins call to boycott Eurovision if Israel participates**

Malta’s activist collective Momentum has thrown its weight behind a growing European movement calling for a Eurovision Song Contest boycott should Israel compete in next year’s competition, setting the stage for a national conversation that stretches far beyond the glittering pop spectacle.

The grassroots organisation, known locally for spearheading environmental campaigns and social justice causes, announced its stance following renewed military action in Gaza. Their declaration has rippled through Malta’s tight-knit cultural community, where Eurovision has long occupied a singular place in the national psyche.

“For decades, we’ve watched Malta pour its heart into Eurovision, treating it as our World Cup final,” explains Momentum spokesperson Alexia Camilleri. “But we cannot separate art from atrocity. If Israel participates while Palestinian civilians face bombardment, Eurovision’s claim to unite through music rings hollow.”

The timing proves particularly sensitive. Malta’s own Eurovision selection process typically kicks off in January, with PBS already scouting venues for next year’s national final. The public broadcaster, which declined to comment for this article, now faces mounting pressure from multiple quarters.

Local musicians find themselves navigating treacherous waters. Emma Muscat, who represented Malta in 2022, expressed solidarity with Palestinian civilians while stopping short of endorsing a boycott. “As artists, we’re torn between our love for Eurovision’s unifying spirit and our conscience,” she tells Hot Malta. “This isn’t just about politics—it’s about human dignity.”

The debate has electrified Malta’s cultural landscape in ways few international issues manage. Facebook groups dedicated to Eurovision fandom—typically spaces for discussing choreography and costume choices—now host heated arguments about international law and cultural complicity. Some members threaten to abandon long-standing fan clubs; others organise Palestinian solidarity marches timed to coincide with Eurovision viewing parties.

At Café Society in Valletta, where Eurovision fans traditionally gather to watch semi-finals, owner Marisa Bonnici describes an atmosphere unlike anything in her 15 years hosting viewing nights. “We’ve had customers who’ve been coming here since 2008 say they won’t return if we screen Israel’s performance,” she says, wiping down tables adorned with past Maltese entrants’ memorabilia. “But others accuse us of censorship if we don’t. We’re caught in the middle.”

The economic implications ripple outward. Malta’s Eurovision delegation, comprising performers, songwriters, stylists, and technical crew, represents significant investment for a country that treats the contest as cultural diplomacy. Tourism operators who package Eurovision-themed trips face uncertainty, while local vendors who profit from viewing parties watch nervously.

Momentum’s stance builds on Malta’s complex relationship with Eurovision boycotts. The country participated in the 1980 boycott following Israel’s earlier conflicts, though that decision stemmed more from logistical concerns than political principle. Today’s movement carries different weight in an era of social media activism and heightened awareness of Palestinian rights.

University of Malta sociologist Dr. Andrea Sant cautions against dismissing the boycott call as mere virtue signalling. “For Maltese people, Eurovision represents our moment on the world stage,” she observes. “When activists target something so central to national identity, they’re forcing us to confront uncomfortable questions about our values and our place in the global community.”

As autumn approaches and Eurovision season looms, Malta faces a reckoning. Will PBS bow to pressure and withdraw if Israel competes? Can the island’s Eurovision obsession survive becoming collateral damage in a geopolitical conflict? And perhaps most crucially for Momentum’s activists—will ordinary Maltese people sacrifice their beloved annual ritual for a principle many support in theory but struggle to practice?

The answer may define not just next year’s Eurovision, but how Malta sees itself in an increasingly polarised world. One thing remains certain: when Maltese families gather around televisions next May, the conversation will extend far beyond points and performances, transforming Europe’s campest tradition into something unprecedentedly political.