Yuval Raphael may not have clinched the official Eurovision crown, but she was clearly the people’s champion. Representing Israel with the anthemic “New Day Will Rise,” Raphael took the stage in Basel and swept the audience vote with a staggering 297 points—the highest of the night. Though the national juries gave her only 60 points, landing her in second place overall, the crowd’s response spoke volumes.
This is now the third consecutive year that Israel’s Eurovision entrant has been buoyed by a wave of popular support—despite cool receptions from professional juries. And the message from fans across Europe and beyond was loud and clear: politics may cloud the air, but a powerful performance still cuts through.
Behind the Numbers: Political Tensions and Public Love
While audiences in countries like the UK, Spain, Sweden, and Belgium gave Israel the full “douze points,” some public broadcasters took a starkly different tone. From Ireland and Spain came pointed criticism of Israel’s inclusion in the contest, citing its war in Gaza. Spain even aired a graphic reading, “When human rights are at stake, silence is not an option. Peace and Justice for Palestine.” Meanwhile, over 70 past contestants signed an open letter demanding Raphael’s disqualification.
And yet, she rose.
Despite the efforts to turn her into a political pawn, Raphael stood steady and delivered one of the most memorable performances of the evening. “New Day Will Rise” wasn’t just a title—it became a prophecy.
What It Means for the LGBTQ Community
Though Raphael herself is not part of the להטב”ק community, her moment on stage resonated with many queer viewers across the globe. Eurovision has long been a cultural safe haven for LGBTQ fans—a glittering escape where identity, spectacle, and self-expression reign supreme. To see a performer targeted by political outrage and still embraced by millions feels painfully familiar.
It’s not just about the song. It’s about the strength to perform with grace under pressure. It’s about being caught in the crosshairs of controversy and still managing to inspire. Raphael’s resilience—and the solidarity of fans who refused to let politics dim her spotlight—reminded queer viewers everywhere that public love can be louder than institutional rejection.
A Rising Anthem in Divided Times
Hen Mazzig put it succinctly: “#Eurovision public vote is saying: social media is not real life.” And maybe that’s what made this moment so electric. The crowd saw something pure: a performer standing in the fire, singing through it, and receiving love in return.
For Israel’s Eurovision legacy—and for anyone who knows the sting of being silenced or sidelined—this wasn’t just a second-place finish. It was a win where it counts: with the people, in the music, and in the moments that refuse to be erased.