Society
Eurovision: how the song contest reshapes Ukraine's image in Europe
While diplomats negotiated, Ukrainian singers changed minds.
![The LELEKA staging told the story of a person trying to rebuild their connection to home and their own identity. Vienna, Austria. May 13. [Olha Chepil/Kontur]](/gc6/images/2026/06/01/56370-img_leleka_1-370_237.webp)
By Olha Chepil |
A young woman in a white-and-black outfit stepped onto the Eurovision stage in Vienna, a bandura -- one of Ukraine's most distinctive folk instruments -- as her centerpiece.
Around her in the arena, fans wearing blue-and-yellow face paint and traditional vyshyvanka (embroidered shirts) watched with a fervor that had little to do with pop music. Many of them were not tourists. The war had made them refugees.
Over 23 years, Ukraine has used Eurovision to do what diplomats often cannot: make Europe feel a country, not just acknowledge it.
From obscurity to icon
Ukraine's debut came in 2003, when most Europeans held a vague sense of the country as somewhere between Russia and Eastern Europe -- no distinct image, no recognizable cultural voice.
![This year Ukraine brought to Vienna not only a song, but a dedicated Ukrainian booth, featuring vyshyvankas, traditional flower wreaths and music. Vienna, Austria. May 13. [Olha Chepil/Kontur]](/gc6/images/2026/06/01/56371-img_kepka-370_237.webp)
![Volodymyr Tsvyk and Maryna Kobzar are among the Ukrainian media credentialed at Eurovision in Vienna. Vienna, Austria. May 13. [Olha Chepil/Kontur]](/gc6/images/2026/06/01/56372-img_cvyk_kobzar-370_237.webp)
Ruslana changed that in 2004. Her winning song "Wild Dances," rooted in Carpathian folk traditions and Hutsul melodies, announced Ukraine as something entirely its own. The victory came just as the Orange Revolution erupted at home.
"People realized that ethnic music, and the fusion of traditional sounds with modern styles, captivates not only Ukrainians but the entire world," Alim Aliev, deputy director general of the Ukrainian Institute, told Kontur.
The sharper turn came in 2016. Jamala won in Stockholm with "1944," a song drawn from her great-grandmother's experience of the Soviet deportation of the Crimean Tatars.
In May 1944, soldiers forced her great-grandmother and five children into a cattle car and exiled them to Central Asia; one daughter died along the way. It was the first time the Crimean Tatar language, listed by UNESCO as endangered, had been heard on the Eurovision stage.
Atlantic Council analysts wrote that Jamala accomplished more with a single song than years of diplomatic negotiations: she reminded Europeans that Crimea belongs to Ukraine, and that the Crimean Tatars have a history others are actively trying to erase.
'Help Mariupol now'
Then came 2022. Kalush Orchestra performed in Turin weeks after Russia's full-scale invasion, with their song "Stefania," nominally dedicated to a mother, taking on a different meaning in real time. Audiences heard it as a song about home, memory and a country facing destruction.
"Help Mariupol, help Azovstal now!" the group's leader, Oleh Psiuk, shouted from the stage immediately after their performance, as defenders held out in the besieged city. European viewers responded: 439 points from the public set an absolute record at the time.
Psiuk's pink bucket hat became an unlikely Eurovision symbol, with fans across Europe wearing replicas. The group later auctioned their winner's crystal microphone and donated the proceeds to the Armed Forces of Ukraine.
"Following the full-scale invasion, a definitive Ukrainian brand emerged. People finally began to understand what kind of country this is, where it is located, and what its capital is," Maryna Kobzar, a journalist from Kharkiv who attended the Vienna contest, told Kontur.
More than war
That recognition carries a depth. Ukrainian journalist Volodymyr Tsvyk, who also traveled to Vienna, noted a shift in how European audiences relate to Ukraine.
"Before, people perceived Ukraine as a vibrant, fascinating country that others looked up to," he told Kontur. "Now, we more frequently hear: 'Glory to Ukraine, we support you.' I feel that people have begun to respect Ukraine more, rather than simply loving it."
At this year's milestone 70th edition in Vienna, Ukraine sent Viktoria Leleka with the song "Ridnym." Her name means "stork" in Ukrainian, a bird that always returns home. She finished ninth. Bulgaria claimed its first-ever victory.
Eurovision organizers invited past Ukrainian stars Ruslana and Verka Serduchka to perform as "contest icons" during the grand final -- a recognition that Ukrainian artists have become part of the show's own history.
Support for Ukraine in Vienna extended well beyond the diaspora. Daniel, a fan from Croatia who had traveled to cheer for his own country's contestant, said he backed Leleka just as fiercely.
"I feel that right now, Eurovision gives Ukraine something incredibly important — empathy. People in Europe are beginning to emotionally feel and understand Ukrainians," he told Kontur.
Swedish sisters Sofia and Alma Edbom, longtime Eurovision fans, said they were rooting for Ukraine with particular intensity.
"Every year, Ukraine brings high-quality songs with powerful staging, and they always become hits," Sofia told Kontur.
A musical stage, not a government program, drove Ukraine's image transformation in Europe, according to Aliev.
"When we talk about Eurovision, it is a massive platform where not just artists, but entirely different cultures meet," he said.
"The most important symbol of Ukraine at Eurovision is not even the individual songs, but the fact that the country continues to participate and create modern, high-quality music," Kobzar said. "Ukraine continues to make itself heard, even during a war."