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TIME Magazine
March 11 2012
How Armenia and Azerbaijan Wage War Through Eurovision
By William Lee Adams
Critics deride the Eurovision Song Contest as a cultural Chernobyl
where sex appeal has more value than musical ability. There's some
truth in that. In recent years contestants have danced salaciously in
giant hamster wheels (Ukraine) and stood on wind machines while
wearing pink tutus (Albania). But look past the froth and sequins and
it becomes impossible to deny that the annual contest, which is
watched by more than 100 million people, also serves as a barometer of
contemporary Europe - and the internal conflicts the continent faces.
That truth was made rather salient on March 7 when Armenia withdrew
from the 2012 contest, which takes place May 22-26 in Baku,
Azerbaijan, citing escalating tensions with its neighbor. Azerbaijani
and Armenian forces fought a bloody war over the disputed
Nagorno-Karabakh region in the 1990s, leaving at least 25,000 people
dead. Although the two nations signed a ceasefire in 1994, they have
never brokered a final peace deal.
Azerbaijan, which has invested millions into hosting the event, sees
Eurovision as an opportunity to boost its profile in the West and to
prove it can offer the world more than just oil. After its
little-known singers Ell & Nikki won last year's contest - thereby
giving Azerbaijan the right to host this year's contest - members of the
Eurovision press corps dreamed of a glorious rapprochement. The
Armenian contestant would take to the stage in Baku, audiences would
clap, and euro-pop love would wash away all the hostility. Other
countries would get in on the action, too. A member of the French
delegation - which includes the officials who choose France's song and
artist - confided to me that he would push for France to send a French
singer of Armenian descent, someone like ye-ye artist Sylvie Vartan or
chanson entertainer Charles Aznavour. This spring Azerbaijan agreed to
simplify visa restrictions for foreigners - allowing Armenians, who are
normally barred from entering the country, to do so. And as Armenians
voiced concerns about their participant's security, Azerbaijan
declared that everyone - including the Armenians - would be safe during
the two weeks of dress rehearsals, and the televised semifinals and
grand finale.
(MORE: Top 10 Most Outrageous Eurovision Acts)
But tensions began to escalate in February when Armenia blamed the
death of one of its soldiers on Azeri sniper fire. On Feb. 24, a group
of 22 prominent Armenian musicians - including three former Eurovision
contestants - signed a letter calling on Armenia to boycott the contest.
`We refuse to appear in a country that is well-known for the mass
killings and massacres of Armenians, in a country where anti-Armenian
sentiments have been elevated to the level of state policy,' it said.
The final straw appears to have come in late February, when around
50,000 Azeris gathered in Baku to commemorate an alleged massacre
carried out by Armenians 20 years earlier. Shortly afterwards,
Azerbaijan President Ilham Aliyev posted the following remarks on his
website: `Our main enemies are Armenians of the world and the
hypocritical and corrupt politicians that they control.'
(MORE: Ukraine's Eurovision Selection Marred by Right-Wing Racism)
Following Armenia's March 7 withdrawal, the European Broadcasting
Union (EBU), which runs Eurovision, described the move as an
`unfortunate decision.' And Azeri politicians accused Armenia of a
propaganda war. Ali Ahmedov, a senior member of Azerbaijan's governing
party, told reporters that Armenia had drummed up an excuse to
withdraw - and that they would likely regret it. As he said: `The
Armenian refusal to take part in such a respected contest will cause
even further damage to the already damaged image of Armenia.'
Of course, this isn't the first time Armenia and Azerbaijan have used
Eurovision as a proxy for their ongoing conflict. In 2010, Armenia's
Eva Rivas - who bares an uncanny resemblance to Angelina Jolie - sang
`Apricot Stone,' an ode to the national fruit of Armenia, which she
said gave her strength to overcome life's travails. Conspiracy
theories suggested its lyrics, which included the word `motherland'
five times, invoked the 1915 Armenian Genocide, which neither Turkey
nor Azerbaijan recognize. `Many, many years ago/ When I was a little
child/ Mama told me you should know/ Our world is cruel and wild/ But
to make your way through cold and heat/ Love is all that you need.'
She and her team denied the claim.
In 2009, the ongoing dispute over Nagorno-Karabakh exerted a visual
impact. An introductory video clip - a so-called `postcard' - was shown
before each contestant took to the stage, and included notable
landmarks of their country, so Big Ben for Britain, and the Eiffel
Tower for France. During the semifinals, the Armenian clip included
`We Are Our Mountains` - a statue in Nagorno-Karabakh, which is
internationally recognized as a part of Azerbaijan. Azeris complained,
and the EBU removed the statue from the clip for the grand finale.
However, Armenians wouldn't let the issue go. After all of the
performances, a presenter in each participating country announced how
his respective country had voted. In an act of revenge, the Armenian
presenter Sirusho Harutyunyan repeatedly flashed a clipboard
containing an image of `We Are Our Mountains.' And she stood before
another image of the statue. (Subtlety has never been a strength of
Eurovision performers).
That upped the tension inside Azerbaijan, too. After the 2009 contest,
Azerbaijan's National Security Committee reportedly seized tele-voting
records and summoned Azeri citizens who had voted for Armenia to
police stations. Officials then interrogated them over their loyalty
to the nation.
Not even the Junior Eurovision Song Contest - which is held annually for
10 to 15 year olds - is immune to the conflict. In 2010, during the
Junior Eurovision contest in Minsk, Belarus, officials in Azerbaijan
reportedly cut off the live broadcast of the show when it became clear
that Armenia's Vladimir Arzumanyan, 12, had won the contest with his
song `Mama.'
Adults in Armenia quickly seized on the geopolitical dimensions of his
victory. `Vladimir has not yet realized what a significant event took
place for our country,' Diana Mnatsakanyan, the head of Armenia's
Junior Eurovision delegation, told reporters the day after his win.
But that much was already clear the night before at his press
conference, which TIME attended. Young Vladimir was more concerned
with scoring a victory against his parents than with political
rivalries. `I want a brother,' he said. `My mother promised me that if
I'd win.'
If the Armenian-Azerbaijani controversies at Eurovision are any
indicator, then that indifference to the bigger picture will pass soon
enough.
William Lee Adams is a staff writer at the London bureau of TIME
http://globalspin.blogs.time.com/2012/03/11/how-armenia-and-azerbaijan-wage-war-through-eurovision/
March 11 2012
How Armenia and Azerbaijan Wage War Through Eurovision
By William Lee Adams
Critics deride the Eurovision Song Contest as a cultural Chernobyl
where sex appeal has more value than musical ability. There's some
truth in that. In recent years contestants have danced salaciously in
giant hamster wheels (Ukraine) and stood on wind machines while
wearing pink tutus (Albania). But look past the froth and sequins and
it becomes impossible to deny that the annual contest, which is
watched by more than 100 million people, also serves as a barometer of
contemporary Europe - and the internal conflicts the continent faces.
That truth was made rather salient on March 7 when Armenia withdrew
from the 2012 contest, which takes place May 22-26 in Baku,
Azerbaijan, citing escalating tensions with its neighbor. Azerbaijani
and Armenian forces fought a bloody war over the disputed
Nagorno-Karabakh region in the 1990s, leaving at least 25,000 people
dead. Although the two nations signed a ceasefire in 1994, they have
never brokered a final peace deal.
Azerbaijan, which has invested millions into hosting the event, sees
Eurovision as an opportunity to boost its profile in the West and to
prove it can offer the world more than just oil. After its
little-known singers Ell & Nikki won last year's contest - thereby
giving Azerbaijan the right to host this year's contest - members of the
Eurovision press corps dreamed of a glorious rapprochement. The
Armenian contestant would take to the stage in Baku, audiences would
clap, and euro-pop love would wash away all the hostility. Other
countries would get in on the action, too. A member of the French
delegation - which includes the officials who choose France's song and
artist - confided to me that he would push for France to send a French
singer of Armenian descent, someone like ye-ye artist Sylvie Vartan or
chanson entertainer Charles Aznavour. This spring Azerbaijan agreed to
simplify visa restrictions for foreigners - allowing Armenians, who are
normally barred from entering the country, to do so. And as Armenians
voiced concerns about their participant's security, Azerbaijan
declared that everyone - including the Armenians - would be safe during
the two weeks of dress rehearsals, and the televised semifinals and
grand finale.
(MORE: Top 10 Most Outrageous Eurovision Acts)
But tensions began to escalate in February when Armenia blamed the
death of one of its soldiers on Azeri sniper fire. On Feb. 24, a group
of 22 prominent Armenian musicians - including three former Eurovision
contestants - signed a letter calling on Armenia to boycott the contest.
`We refuse to appear in a country that is well-known for the mass
killings and massacres of Armenians, in a country where anti-Armenian
sentiments have been elevated to the level of state policy,' it said.
The final straw appears to have come in late February, when around
50,000 Azeris gathered in Baku to commemorate an alleged massacre
carried out by Armenians 20 years earlier. Shortly afterwards,
Azerbaijan President Ilham Aliyev posted the following remarks on his
website: `Our main enemies are Armenians of the world and the
hypocritical and corrupt politicians that they control.'
(MORE: Ukraine's Eurovision Selection Marred by Right-Wing Racism)
Following Armenia's March 7 withdrawal, the European Broadcasting
Union (EBU), which runs Eurovision, described the move as an
`unfortunate decision.' And Azeri politicians accused Armenia of a
propaganda war. Ali Ahmedov, a senior member of Azerbaijan's governing
party, told reporters that Armenia had drummed up an excuse to
withdraw - and that they would likely regret it. As he said: `The
Armenian refusal to take part in such a respected contest will cause
even further damage to the already damaged image of Armenia.'
Of course, this isn't the first time Armenia and Azerbaijan have used
Eurovision as a proxy for their ongoing conflict. In 2010, Armenia's
Eva Rivas - who bares an uncanny resemblance to Angelina Jolie - sang
`Apricot Stone,' an ode to the national fruit of Armenia, which she
said gave her strength to overcome life's travails. Conspiracy
theories suggested its lyrics, which included the word `motherland'
five times, invoked the 1915 Armenian Genocide, which neither Turkey
nor Azerbaijan recognize. `Many, many years ago/ When I was a little
child/ Mama told me you should know/ Our world is cruel and wild/ But
to make your way through cold and heat/ Love is all that you need.'
She and her team denied the claim.
In 2009, the ongoing dispute over Nagorno-Karabakh exerted a visual
impact. An introductory video clip - a so-called `postcard' - was shown
before each contestant took to the stage, and included notable
landmarks of their country, so Big Ben for Britain, and the Eiffel
Tower for France. During the semifinals, the Armenian clip included
`We Are Our Mountains` - a statue in Nagorno-Karabakh, which is
internationally recognized as a part of Azerbaijan. Azeris complained,
and the EBU removed the statue from the clip for the grand finale.
However, Armenians wouldn't let the issue go. After all of the
performances, a presenter in each participating country announced how
his respective country had voted. In an act of revenge, the Armenian
presenter Sirusho Harutyunyan repeatedly flashed a clipboard
containing an image of `We Are Our Mountains.' And she stood before
another image of the statue. (Subtlety has never been a strength of
Eurovision performers).
That upped the tension inside Azerbaijan, too. After the 2009 contest,
Azerbaijan's National Security Committee reportedly seized tele-voting
records and summoned Azeri citizens who had voted for Armenia to
police stations. Officials then interrogated them over their loyalty
to the nation.
Not even the Junior Eurovision Song Contest - which is held annually for
10 to 15 year olds - is immune to the conflict. In 2010, during the
Junior Eurovision contest in Minsk, Belarus, officials in Azerbaijan
reportedly cut off the live broadcast of the show when it became clear
that Armenia's Vladimir Arzumanyan, 12, had won the contest with his
song `Mama.'
Adults in Armenia quickly seized on the geopolitical dimensions of his
victory. `Vladimir has not yet realized what a significant event took
place for our country,' Diana Mnatsakanyan, the head of Armenia's
Junior Eurovision delegation, told reporters the day after his win.
But that much was already clear the night before at his press
conference, which TIME attended. Young Vladimir was more concerned
with scoring a victory against his parents than with political
rivalries. `I want a brother,' he said. `My mother promised me that if
I'd win.'
If the Armenian-Azerbaijani controversies at Eurovision are any
indicator, then that indifference to the bigger picture will pass soon
enough.
William Lee Adams is a staff writer at the London bureau of TIME
http://globalspin.blogs.time.com/2012/03/11/how-armenia-and-azerbaijan-wage-war-through-eurovision/