Was Sir Cliff Richard really a victim of General Franco's Spain? Did the dictator buy favour from juries around Europe (as a Spanish television documentary alleges) to ensure a victory for his country on that shocking night at the Royal Albert Hall in 1968?

It always smelt funny - Cliff, and the peerless, timpani-driven Congratulations, losing out to Massiel, a late-drafted girl in a pink mini-dress, singing a long- forgotten floor-emptier called La La La, whose chorus did indeed go “La la la”.

And look how those 40 years of hurt held Cliff back. Sure, he may have gone on to be the only British artist to have had No1 hits in three different centuries (or thereabouts). But as Cliff himself has says: “It's never good to feel a loser.” Indeed not, and there's a growing feeling that, if these allegations stack up, Spain should be made to pay. I don't suppose anyone in the Cliff fan club is entirely ruling out military action at this point. At the very least they'll be looking to string a few people up by the la-las.

But are we confident that we understand Franco's motives? Consider these additional facts. In 1973, in the dying years of the Franco regime, Cliff went back into Europe with Power to All Our Friends. On that occasion, Spain nudged him into third place - and were then accused of plagiarising the Yugoslav entry from 1966, a song that finished seventh.

Now, if you were going to rip off a song from 1966, you would think you'd have the sense to rip off Austria's Merci Cheri, which won. But that's an argument about logic for another day. The point is, people are suggesting the 1968 contest was fixed to promote Spain's image abroad, when maybe (this 1973 coincidence suggests) Franco simply didn't like Cliff.

None of the reliable histories of the period has much insight to offer on Franco's feelings about “the British Elvis”. It's possible, however, that Cliff mildly alienated the Spanish dictator with the direction of his Sincerely album of 1969, before causing him to lose all patience with the slightly tiresome 1970 smash Goodbye Sam, Hello Samantha.

Whatever, it's no exaggeration to say that the entire history of UK participation in Eurovision is called into question by this latest scandal. Years now firmly under suspicion include 1972, when the New Seekers, with the mighty Beg, Steal or Borrow, came second to Luxembourg's terminally dreary Vicky Leandros; and 1975, when the Shadows with Let Me Be the One (with Cliff, again, valiantly on vocals) narrowly lost out to Teach-In from the Netherlands and their patently absurd Ding-A-Dong. (More indignity at Europe's top table for Cliff there. But Franco was extremely ill at the time. I don't think his fingerprints are on this one.)

Maybe somebody should investigate 1977, too, when Lynsey de Paul and Mike Moran's Rock Bottom finished second to another dismally metaphysical French entry (L'oiseau et l'enfant). I don't know about you, but there's one name I keep coming back to: Giscard d'Estaing.

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