🎤🐰 Social media has been on fire this week dissecting, lauding, and meme-ing the life out of Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl halftime show (watch, runtime: 13:41). The annual US football event is the anchor of American sports and culture, featuring performances from the biggest musical stars and watched live by mns, but under US President Donald Trump’s current administration, the show took on new meaning.

Since being tapped to headline the show last September, Puerto Rican Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio has sparked widespread outrage among conservatives and diehard Trumpers. They considered a dissenting artist singing in a language other than English an insult to their country, while others described him as a major “Trump-hater” and “America-hater.”

Music as a form of resistance

The halftime show — watched by over 128.2 mn people, the fourth most-watched show in Super Bowl history — was brimming with symbolism. From the sugarcane field symbolizing his country’s agricultural heritage and its farmers, to a couple said to have actually wed during the show, to the appearance of prominent Latin stars like Pedro Pascal, Cardi B, and Jessica Alba — Benito turned the show into a love letter to his heritage and homeland.

The performance featured a scene with a series of utility poles, followed by his song El Apagón, which quite literally translates to “the blackout.” This served as a critique of the US government’s neglect of the island, which suffers from crumbling infrastructure that leaves it more vulnerable to natural disasters. Right before the performance ended, Bad Bunny paid tribute to all the nations of South, Central, and North America by waving the Puerto Rican flag, sending a message that America isn’t a monolith.

Ring a bell? The current debate online brings to mind the various eras in which our region used music as a tool of resistance. From Sayed Darwish’s anti-British anthems and Fairuz’s powerful ballads — which both resisted and chronicled the Lebanese Civil War — to the Algerian National Liberation Front’s anti-French colonialism songs and the birth of Raï music throughout the Maghreb, it seems history is constantly repeating itself.

Republicans didn’t like the show

At a time of rising racism and erratic federal campaigns against immigrants led by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Bad Bunny has emerged as a symbol of resistance. He avoids speaking English, always sings in Spanish, and takes pride in his Puerto Rican roots. He actively promotes tourism and supports the local economy, even holding a 31-concert tour exclusively in his homeland under the slogan “ I Don’t Want to Leave Here.” Benito uses his songs to express issues of identity and belonging in a way that resonates with the Latino community across the globe.

Trump — who speaks of Puerto Rico as if it were a foreign state rather than part of the US — penned a lengthy post on Truth Social expressing his dissatisfaction. The US president described the halftime show as “one of the worst, ever,” calling it a “slap in the face” to the US.

The real America

Just days before the sporting event, Bad Bunny’s latest album Debí Tirar Más Fotos earned him several Grammys, making him the first artist to earn the award for an entirely Spanish-language album. He used his acceptance speech to emphasize that immigrants are not “savages,” “animals,” or “aliens,” but human beings and Americans, like it or not. It was widely expected that Benito’s halftime show would also reflect his political views — and it did.

Bad Bunny’s openness to the concept of being American — belonging to the Americas rather than the US — reflects a broader political stance. It extends to all countries of the Global South that suffer the consequences of imperialism and a legacy that has brought nothing but ruin to these nations, scattering their populations across the globe. It’s not surprising that his music resonates with various displaced peoples in the US and around the world — from immigrants and activists to displaced Palestinians.

As superpower governments increasingly veer toward more extremist and authoritarian rhetoric, pressure intensifies on minorities and vulnerable groups. Here, music arrives with the promise of being a window that grants its creators and fans a wider space to express their true identities and to belong.

Love him or hate him, Bad Bunny’s songs at their core carry something larger than themselves. This music may not change reality or spark radical shifts in state policies, but it remains a pulpit for those who fear losing their voice, heritage, and homeland.

(** Tap or click the headline above to read this story with all of the links to our background as well as external sources.)

Tags: