Of course it was a Taylor Swift concert. That was my first thought, as soon as I read that three of Swift’s Vienna shows have been cancelled due to the threat of terrorism.
I am late to the Taylor Swift party. The ventriloquist of female adolescence somehow passed me by when I was myself in adolescence, getting my heart broken again and again. I have spent the past year making up for lost time, losing myself in her entire back catalogue and marvelling at how every song resonates, her ability to capture the ephemeral and reflect it back in a way that is so obviously authentic. Fizzing infatuation, crushing despair, the overly brash recovery, getting broken down and built back up, loss and vulnerability and joy and regained confidence, repeated and repeated in an intoxicating spiral. And the warm tingling sense of connection, of realising the moments in my life when I have felt most alone are in fact all but universal, set to music and shared billions of times with millions of women across the world.
I don’t want to make this political. It shouldn’t be political – as an artist, Swift (for the most part) deliberately avoids making political statements with her music. She’s hardly Billy Bragg or the Manic Street Preachers or Rage Against the Machine. The opposite, in fact. As much as is possible in a world where everything everywhere is always connected, she tries to stay out of politics.
But it seems that where women and girls gather to share their love for something, politics inevitably follows. Ten days ago, three little girls were brutally killed at a Taylor Swift themed dance class. As we watched the escalation of civic violence in response, many political issues have been under the spotlight. Mass migration. The impacts of multiculturalism. Tension regarding the UK’s growing Muslim communities. The alienation of the white working class. The changing face of Britain. Poverty. Trust in the police. Mental health.
You know what has barely been talked about? The fact that there is one very specific demographic you will find at a Taylor Swift themed dance class. Three guesses which one.
Allowing for the passage of time, it’s a very similar demographic to the one you will find at a Taylor Swift concert. The Eras tour is the highest-grossing concert tour of all time. It has the power to impact a country’s inflation rates. Over four million tickets sold, the great majority – let’s be clear – to women. Women who see themselves in Swift’s music. Women finding delight and connection in each other, in sharing their experiences and coming together to be themselves, in a place where men are not unwelcome but that equally does not centre them.
I’ve heard some women talk about those concerts as a sanctuary, the safest, most joyful public event they have ever been to. Others have said it was almost spiritual. Not because Swift is trying to be any kind of religious icon (whatever might be said in some of the darkest corners of the right-wing internet), but because of the excitement and solidarity and intimacy of her fans. Because of that sense of community. And because of how refreshing and rare it still feels for there to be a place that is all about celebrating female experiences. Because of that power.
So of course it is a target. Of course those seeking to spark terror, the individuals arrested on suspicion of planning attacks inspired by Islamic State, focused their gaze there. Austria’s general director for public security has said the suspects “became radicalised via the internet”. Radicalised against what, we might well ask. Against one of the most successful women in the world? Against women dancing to pop music somewhere they feel safe? Against women in general, having the audacity to enjoy themselves in a way that isn’t about men?
When an Islamic State terrorist attacked Manchester Arena in 2018, he chose an Ariana Grande concert. That wasn’t a coincidence. On Monday, when I interviewed former chief Crown prosecutor Nazir Afzal, he pointed out that there had been a wrestling match the night before. The attacker let the wrestling attendees be. His target was girls and young women.
We should be able to talk about this, the way misogyny is so often underplayed and how violence against women and girls is either ignored outright or else hijacked by those pushing some other political agenda of their own. Three girls killed at a Taylor Swift themed dance class. We have seen in Britain this past week how some men have reacted to that, by feeling threatened and under attack. We’ve seen the smashed glass, burning cars and fights with police. We’ve seen how they insisted on making it all about them, their grievances, their entitlement.
What have Swifties done in reaction to being targeted, now the shows they have waited nearly two years have been cancelled? They have gathered on a road in Vienna called Corneliusgasse, in honour of the song “Cornelia Street”, about a place where Swift lived in New York. They are trading friendship bracelets – a trend sparked by another Swift song – and taking part in an impromptu singalong. Songs that resonate because they ring true. Her fans are building their own sanctuary, in defiance. They are refusing to let the misogyny – the terror – shut them up, refusing to give up the safe space they created. Women connecting with other women, sharing their love of music and celebrating their shared experience. There is something radical about that. It might not be political. But it is powerful.
[See also: Understanding England’s anarchy]
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