The postponement of punk rap duo Bob Vylan’s Manchester concert is more than just a scheduling change for disgruntled fans. It is a textbook example of how modern culture wars are fought, won, and lost—not through reasoned debate, but through the strategic creation and weaponisation of “folk devils” to manipulate public sentiment and silence dissent.
The facts, as reported, are straightforward. Bob Vylan, a band known for its incendiary critique of systemic racism and political injustice, led chants of “death to the IDF” at Glastonbury. Following the tragic Manchester synagogue attack, the Jewish Representative Council (JRC) of Greater Manchester, backed by ten MPs, wrote to the Manchester Academy demanding the cancellation of the duo’s upcoming show. Their central claim, as stated by JRC Chief Executive Marc Levy, was that the band had “openly engaged in egregious anti-semitism.” The venue subsequently rescheduled the gig.
On the surface, this appears to be a community leader taking a principled stand against hatred in the wake of a local tragedy. But scratch that surface, and a more manipulative process is revealed.
The Anatomy of a “Folk Devil”
The term “folk devil” was coined by sociologist Stanley Cohen in his seminal work on moral panics. A folk devil is a person or group defined as a threat to societal values and interests, presented in a stylised and stereotypical fashion by the media and moral crusaders. They are the villains in our national story, the convenient scapegoats onto whom we can project our anxieties.
In this case, Bob Vylan is being meticulously fashioned into a folk devil. The process involves several key steps:
- Decontextualisation: The chant “death to the IDF” is stripped of its specific political context. For the band and its supporters, this is a vehemently anti-militarist slogan targeting a state army, not a religious or ethnic group. Bobby Vylan himself has explicitly rejected accusations of creating an unsafe atmosphere for Jewish people. By conflating criticism of the Israeli military with hatred towards Jewish people, the band’s complex political message is simplified into a single, damning soundbite: they are “anti-Semitic.”
- Conflation and Guilt by Association: The JRC’s call for cancellation came explicitly “in the wake of the Manchester synagogue attack.” This creates a powerful, albeit illogical, associative link. It suggests that the band’s political rhetoric, however distantly related, shares a moral or causal connection with a violent, Islamist-motivated terror attack. The band is implicitly tarred with the brush of extremism, making them an unacceptable danger in a city raw from tragedy.
- Amplification by Authority: The campaign gains legitimacy not just from a community council, but from the backing of ten MPs. This elevates the issue from a local dispute to a matter of national political concern, signalling to the venue and the public that this is a serious threat to social cohesion.
Weaponising Outrage to Manipulate the Public
The creation of this folk devil is not an end in itself; it is a tool of political manipulation. By presenting Bob Vylan as a monstrous, hate-filled entity, those calling for the cancellation achieve several objectives:
- Shutting Down Uncomfortable Discourse: Criticism of the Israeli state and its military actions is a legitimate, if contentious, part of political debate. By framing it automatically as anti-Semitism, this debate is effectively shut down. There is no need to engage with the underlying arguments about militarism or occupation; one need only point to the “folk devil” and declare the conversation over.
- Policing Culture: This tactic serves as a warning to other artists and venues. It creates a “chilling effect,” where promoters may think twice before booking any act that engages with the politically charged issue of Israel-Palestine, for fear of being targeted by similar campaigns and branded as enablers of hate.
- Heightening the Culture War: This incident is a skirmish in a broader culture war, where complex societal issues are reduced to binary battles between “us” and “them.” On one side, the self-appointed guardians of community safety and values; on the other, the dangerous, radical “other.” This polarisation is electorally and socially useful for some, as it galvanises a political base and distracts from other, less easily solved issues.
In his interview on The Louis Theroux Podcast, Bobby Vylan displayed an awareness of this dynamic, rejecting the idea that his lyrics incite hatred against Jewish people. But in the theatre of the culture war, nuance is the first casualty. The folk devil, once created, is difficult to unmake.
The postponement of the Bob Vylan gig is not simply a victory over alleged hate speech. It is a case study in how public emotion, particularly in times of tragedy, can be harnessed to manipulate populations, narrow the boundaries of acceptable speech, and ensure that the loud, messy, and uncomfortable sounds of protest are silenced before they can even be heard. The real performance wasn’t scheduled for the stage; it was already playing out in the headlines, and its consequences will resonate far longer than any punk rap anthem.
