It is not a nostalgic return. It is a blunt political statement. On the EP, Bono directly confronts ICE, Vladimir Putin, and Benjamin Netanyahu, while addressing Iran’s protest movement, war in Ukraine, and violence in the West Bank. The band has always mixed faith, politics and rock music. This release makes clear they have no intention of stopping.
The opening track, “American Obituary,” centres on Renee Good, a mother of three killed while protesting ICE activity in Minneapolis. Bono challenges the language used to describe her and calls for accountability. In interviews accompanying the EP, he argues that distorting language erodes democracy itself. That theme runs through the record: truth under pressure, power unchecked, and ordinary people caught in between.
He sings: “Renee Good, born to die free / American mother of three / seventh day January / a bullet for each child, as you can see,” Bono sings on the hard rock song, after a forthright, pealing riff from the Edge. “Renee, the ‘domestic terrorist’? / What you can’t kill can’t die / America will rise against the people of the lie.”
In an extensive interview in a fanzine accompanying the six-song release, a continuation of the Propaganda zines the band began sending fans in the 1980s, Bono characterised Good as “a woman committed to nonviolent civil disobedience”.
“Song of the Future” references the Women, Life, Freedom movement in Iran and names Sarina Esmailzadeh, who died during protests in 2022. Bono sings: “Sarina, Sarina, she’s the song of the future playing in my mind.” In his interview, he characterises Iran’s ruling class as “a priestly class of men whose subjective interpretation of sacred text becomes a club to beat the heads in of anyone who disagrees”.
“One Life at a Time” addresses the killing of Palestinian activist Awdah Hathaleen in 2025. Bono called the killing “heinous” and said he hoped the song would be “a balm”.
On “Yours Eternally,” featuring Ed Sheeran and Ukrainian musician Taras Topolia, the focus shifts to Russia’s war in Ukraine. Bono warns that Russian aggression will not stop at one border. The EP closes with a call for what he describes as a “radical centre,” rejecting both far-right nationalism and ideological extremism on the left.
None of this is new territory for U2. Political engagement has defined the band since the early 1980s. Formed in Dublin in 1976, they came of age during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Their 1983 album War made their stance clear. Songs like “Sunday Bloody Sunday” confronted sectarian violence head-on. Bono would introduce it on stage by condemning bloodshed from all sides.
But U2's political activism goes way beyond this 1983 song.
In 1984, U2 played at Live Aid. By 1985, they were performing at Amnesty International’s Conspiracy of Hope tour. Their involvement with Amnesty marked the start of a long relationship with human rights campaigns. Drummer Larry Mullen Jr has said that working with Amnesty and Greenpeace shaped the band’s sense of purpose. Activism was not an add-on. It became part of their identity.
The 1987 album The Joshua Tree expanded their political lens to America. Inspired by travel across the United States, the record examined civil rights, foreign policy, and spiritual crisis. “Bullet the Blue Sky” attacked US intervention in Central America. “Mothers of the Disappeared” addressed Argentina’s Dirty War. U2 were no longer just an Irish band commenting on Ireland. They were engaging global politics from inside the world’s largest music market.
The 1990s brought irony and media satire, but politics remained present. On the 1993 Zoo TV tour, U2 mocked consumerism, war coverage and televangelism. During concerts, Bono phoned world leaders on stage to demand debt relief. It was theatre, but it was also direct lobbying.
Outside the studio, Bono deepened his role as an activist. In 2002, he co-founded the DATA campaign, later merging into ONE. ONE lobbied for debt relief and increased aid to Africa. Bono met with leaders across party lines, including US presidents and European heads of government. He pushed for the 2005 G8 agreement that led to billions in debt cancellation for poor countries. Critics accused him of being too close to power. Supporters argued he delivered measurable results.
U2 also supported the Jubilee 2000 campaign, which pressured wealthy nations to forgive unpayable debt. They campaigned for the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria. Bono’s activism was not limited to speeches. It involved policy details, budget lines and negotiations. That shift—from protest to policy—distinguished him from many celebrity campaigners.
The band’s political positioning has not always been comfortable. In the 2000s, they were criticised for tax arrangements that moved part of their business operations outside Ireland. Critics questioned how a group advocating for global justice could minimise tax at home. U2 defended their decisions as legal and necessary for business. The tension highlighted a core issue: activism from inside capitalism carries contradictions.
More recently, U2 addressed European migration and nationalism. During tours in the 2010s, Bono spoke about refugees and the rise of far-right politics. The 2017 album Songs of Experience included reflections on Brexit and political fragmentation. Their 2022 performance in a Kyiv metro station, alongside Taras Topolia, signalled support for Ukraine early in the war.
First, U2 helped normalise overt political messaging in mainstream rock. In the 1980s, many arena bands avoided controversy. U2 did not. They showed that commercial success and moral argument could coexist. That opened space for later artists to speak more freely.
Second, Bono’s lobbying contributed to tangible policy outcomes. Debt relief agreements in the mid-2000s were shaped by pressure from activists, economists and campaign groups. Bono’s access to leaders amplified that pressure. He did not act alone, but he played a visible role in translating activist demands into political commitments.
Third, U2 changed how global audiences think about Ireland. They emerged from a country associated in the 1980s with conflict and economic struggle. Through music and activism, they projected an image of Ireland as outward-looking and engaged in global justice debates. That cultural shift mattered.
There has also been backlash. Some listeners find Bono self-righteous. Others see U2 as out of touch. Political art risks alienating parts of an audience. The band accepts that cost. As Larry Mullen Jr has said, taking positions “can get a bit messy.” Blowback is part of the deal.
With Days of Ash, U2 return to first principles. They name names. They address deaths and wars directly. They reject what Bono calls the “death of truth.” At the same time, they promise a forthcoming album with a more joyful tone. That balance—lament and hope—has defined their career.
Since 1983, U2 have treated politics not as decoration but as substance. They have written protest songs, lobbied governments, and risked criticism. Their influence lies less in any single lyric and more in the example they set: that a global rock band can engage with power without abandoning the stage.
Whether one agrees with their positions or not, their impact on the intersection of music and politics is hard to deny.
