When ‘It’s Just Music’ Stops Working: A Pro-Putin Voice on a Tel Aviv Rock Bill

“Everything you loved forever…”

And no, this is not about an Israeli citizen.

Not about a Jewish public figure.

Not about someone whose story belongs naturally to Israel.

This is about a musician scheduled to appear on a Tel Aviv rock bill on July 3, 2026 — a musician whose name I will not use here.

Not because it is unknown.

Not because the story rests on rumors.

Quite the opposite: the problem is that too much has already been said publicly — in interviews, in explanations, in the kind of language that makes it impossible to hide behind the old excuse of being “outside politics.”

For the purposes of this column, I will call him simply “Will and Reason.”

One could call him differently, using his own formula: “for Putin, for the SVO.” But those words should not become a second name. They are already bad enough as a political slogan used to normalize Russia’s war against Ukraine.

One could also recall a line from his old rock biography: “Stand up, overcome fear.”

But in this story the question is no longer about fear or overcoming it. The question is what happens when a musician once associated by some listeners with rebellion, heavy guitars and anti-war energy publicly chooses another side.

So let him remain here as “Will and Reason.”

And “Will and Reason” is the musician from the Israeli concert listing who has publicly stated that he is “for Russia, for Putin, for the SVO.”

The question is not only about music

That is where the real question begins.

Not as an investigation.

Not as a campaign.

But as a question to ourselves.

How did it happen that in Israel — a country where Ukrainian repatriates live, where anti-war emigrants from Russia live, where volunteers, families and communities understand that Russia’s war against Ukraine is not just a television image — such an artist can appear in ticket sales as if this were just another music event?

There is an old convenient phrase: “It’s just music.”

It is often pulled out at the most uncomfortable moments.

When an artist stays silent about war.

When an artist speaks ambiguously.

When an artist hopes to appear on a foreign stage without answering for what he said at home.

When organizers want to sell tickets but do not want to explain to the audience who exactly they are bringing to the stage.

But in the case of “Will and Reason,” that phrase no longer works.

Because he himself stepped out of the space of “just music.”

What he said publicly

In a public interview with Sergey Rezanov for the project “Russian in the Good Sense,” published on June 25, 2024, the musician speaks about Putin, Ukraine, the so-called “SVO,” anti-war artists and his own civic position.

The phrases are not vague.

He says:

“My position is unambiguous. I am for Russia, I am for Putin, I am for the SVO.”

He also says:

“I trust Putin.”

He says:

“I personally saw Nazis.”

And speaking about those who left Russia after the beginning of the war, he uses the phrase:

“We sort of cleansed ourselves of them.”

These are not random slips of the tongue.

“If the name Putin had been discussed…”

At one point in the interview, the host recalls that when a new musical name was being discussed, someone might have thought: did they really decide to call it “Putin”?

The musician does not reject the idea as absurd. On the contrary, he says:

“If the name Putin had been discussed, I would have defended it.”

This is not merely a joke about a name.

It is a sentence after which the entire conversation about stage, songs and old rock begins to sound different. A person is not merely talking about politics. He connects himself so strongly to Putin that even the hypothetical use of “Putin” as a musical name does not seem unacceptable to him.

And after that, Israeli audiences are supposed to see him as an ordinary concert name?

Old anti-war songs, new political meaning

The situation becomes even more disturbing when the conversation turns to old anti-war songs.

For many people, Soviet and post-Soviet rock once carried the language of protest, anger, inner freedom and resistance to state violence. Some songs were heard as a refusal to accept war as normal.

But in this interview, the old meaning is rewritten.

Asked about anti-war songs and their relevance today, the musician does not say simply: war is evil, killing is evil, human life matters.

Instead, he reframes the songs through the language now familiar from Russian state narratives about Ukraine.

He says:

“If this is applied now to Ukraine… I personally saw Nazis.”

He adds references to May 9, Khreshchatyk, torches, and “SS Galicia” — the very emotional vocabulary Russian propaganda has used for years to justify aggression against Ukraine.

When the discussion turns to the line “war seems like a game to them,” he says that today he projects it “unambiguously onto Zelensky” and onto “the North Atlantic bloc, which keeps heating up this conflict, led by America.”

The song may remain the same.

But the meaning in the mouth of the author is no longer the same.

Yesterday it could have meant: “We do not want war.”

Today it sounds more like: “We do not want war, but they are to blame.”

That is how propaganda often works. It does not always need to rewrite the song. Sometimes it is enough to rewrite the explanation around the song.

Why this matters for Israeli readers

This is not only a Russian cultural story and not only a Ukrainian story. It is also an Israeli story, because the stage in question is in Tel Aviv, and the audience is not abstract.

Israel has become home to many Ukrainian repatriates, Russian-speaking Israelis who oppose the war, volunteers helping Ukraine, families with relatives still living under Russian attacks, and people who know exactly what the phrase “for Putin, for the SVO” means after February 24, 2022.

This is also why NAnews – Nikk.Agency Israel News follows such stories: not as a matter of gossip, but as part of a larger Israeli conversation about public responsibility, memory, Ukraine, Russian influence, and the moral meaning of cultural platforms after the full-scale invasion.

When a public figure who has justified the Kremlin’s language appears in an Israeli cultural context, the question is not whether people are allowed to listen to old songs. The question is whether the audience is being told the full story before being asked to buy a ticket.

The familiar images of Russian television

There is another phrase in the same interview:

“There are many of these crazy nationalists.”

Around it appear the familiar names and images with which Russian television has frightened its audience for years: Vyatrovych, Farion, Banderites, nationalists, rewritten history, a “crazy” Ukraine.

This is not just a loose set of words.

It is a ready-made worldview in which Ukraine as an independent country almost disappears. Instead, there is a convenient image: a country allegedly captured by “crazy nationalists,” a country whose resistance can be dismissed, a country whose desire to leave Russia’s imperial shadow becomes, in this worldview, a provocation.

For Ukrainian readers, and for many Israelis with Ukrainian roots, this is not abstract language.

It is the language used to erase Ukraine’s right to be itself.

Israel was already in his story

And there is another point Israeli readers should not miss.

“Will and Reason” has already spoken about Israel — not as a state, but as a place where, after 2022, anti-war Russian artists found themselves.

In the interview he recalls musicians who left Russia, mentions those who were “in Israel,” refers to old songs such as “While the Candle Burns,” and then says a phrase that now sounds especially cynical:

“We sort of cleansed ourselves of them.”

In the transcript, he speaks about musicians who were in Israel, about audiences listening to jokes and old songs, about anger poured out at Russia. Then he says:

“And I consider him crap.”

And later:

“They left the vatniks, they left Raska, and so on… we sort of cleansed ourselves of them.”

In other words, he first speaks about anti-war emigration as people from whom Russia allegedly “cleansed” itself.

And now he appears in an Israeli concert listing — in a country where many of those people live.

People who did not want to be part of Putin’s Russia after 2022.

People who left because silence had become complicity.

People who understood that calling war by another name does not make it less of a war.

Tel Aviv is not a neutral stage

This is why Tel Aviv is not a neutral stage in this story.

Tel Aviv is not an empty dot on a map.

Israel is home to Ukrainian repatriates.

It is home to Russian-speaking Israelis who oppose the war.

It is home to volunteers who have helped Ukraine since the first days of the full-scale invasion.

It is home to families whose relatives still live under Russian attacks.

For these people, the phrase “I am for Russia, I am for Putin, I am for the SVO” is not merely an opinion.

It is support for the political machine that has destroyed Ukrainian cities and killed Ukrainian civilians.

This is not a debate about guitar sound.

Not a debate about nostalgia.

Not a debate about which rock musician was important in the past.

It is a question of moral boundaries.

This is about public responsibility

Of course, this column is not a call for illegal pressure, harassment or violence. It is not about replacing facts with slogans. It is not about declaring someone guilty without legal process.

It is about public responsibility.

It is about honesty with the audience.

If a musician publicly said he is “for Putin, for the SVO,” that should not be hidden behind lights, sound and promotional language.

If he spoke about “Nazis” in Ukraine, Israeli audiences have the right to know that this is the language behind his current public position.

If he said about anti-war artists, including those connected to Israel, that Russia had “cleansed” itself of them, then Israeli audiences have the right to ask why he is now being presented here as a regular participant in a concert evening.

If he says “I trust Putin,” this is not a single emotional phrase.

If he says he would defend the name “Putin” in a musical context, then the argument that this is “just music” collapses by itself.

The organizers may say they did not know.

If so, that is also a problem.

After 2022, not knowing is no longer a comfortable excuse.

The audience should know whom it is being invited to support with a ticket.

What to do with old songs

One can still remember old songs.

One can admit that music once mattered in someone’s life.

One can separate one’s memories from today’s choices.

But nostalgia cannot become an indulgence.

Old rock cannot erase a present-day public position.

A person may say where he stands.

The audience may also decide where it stands.

Conclusion

That is why the question remains.

Why is a musician who publicly supported Putin and the so-called “SVO” appearing in Israel as if this were an ordinary musical event?

And who is willing to explain to Israeli audiences why this should be considered normal?