“This is for my people, my culture, my history,” said Puerto Rican Reggaetón sensation Bad Bunny in a recent statement, announcing his commitment to perform at the 2026 Super Bowl. Amassing over 92 million streams on Spotify, Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio (Bad Bunny) was ranked as the third-most-streamed artist worldwide in 2024. His performance in February will mark the first time an exclusively non-English singer takes the stage at America’s biggest game. Although undeniably an impressive moment for Bad Bunny’s career, this announcement has sparked larger debates surrounding Puerto Rican-American identity, the commodification of culture, and the politics dividing modern football.
Amidst the celebrations of Bad Bunny fans, the announcement generated immediate backlash from MAGA conservatives. Bad Bunny, an outspoken, sometimes skirt-wearing Trump denouncer, stands as a blatant threat to football loving Republicans, who believe masculinity, language, and music shouldn’t blur or cross borders. Bad Bunny has not shied away from criticizing the current administration. At a 2024 Trump rally, comedian Tony Hinchcliffe referred to Puerto Rico as “a floating island of garbage.” In response, Bad Bunny posted a clip to Instagram appreciating his homeland, accompanied by the pointed caption, “garbage.” He demonstrated his liberal views most explicitly by publicly supporting Kamala Harris’s campaign, reposting a video of her stating that she will “never forget what Donald Trump did and did not do when Puerto Rico needed a supportive and competent leader,” in reference to the President’s actions following Hurricanes Maria and Irma in 2017. The administration was criticized for its disorganized response and delayed provision of federal aid, while Trump himself was condemned for feuding with Puerto Rican officials, dismissing death tolls, and blithely tossing paper towels to a crowd during a relief visit.
One of the many outraged by Bad Bunny’s slated performance, Robby Starbuck, a conservative social media activist known for his anti-DEI campaigns, posted on X, “Does this guy really scream American football to anyone? Be for real with me. No one thinks he does. This isn’t about music, it’s about putting a guy on stage who hates Trump and MAGA.” Starbuck’s comment reveals the long-standing dissonance surrounding Puerto Rican-American relations. To say that Bad Bunny cannot represent American football carries an underlying sentiment that, despite their legal citizenship, Puerto Ricans are outsiders to the United States’ national identity.
Since Puerto Rico was ceded to the U.S. following the Spanish-American War in 1898, tensions surrounding representation and inclusion have persisted. Though technically American citizens, Puerto Ricans cannot vote in U.S. elections unless they live on the mainland. At the same time, U.S. policies have created a legacy of exploitation. In the 20th century, the island’s economy was manipulated to serve American corporate interests through tax breaks for manufacturing companies. However, Puerto Ricans themselves received little benefit from the influx of production, and when corporate incentives were phased out, it resulted in debt and mass out-migration. Given this history, Bad Bunny’s performance represents more than entertainment. It’s a moment where a Puerto Rican asserts cultural power in a realm that has always been dominated by mainland definitions of “American.”
Bad Bunny’s performance also demonstrates Puerto Rico’s role as a cultural exporter to the United States. Artists like Bad Bunny and his frequent collaborator, Daddy Yankee, have popularized modern Latin music in America, building on a longer tradition of salsa, bomba, and other Puerto Rican sounds that have influenced American radio. However, historically, these influences have been diluted or repackaged for mainstream American enjoyment. For example, Justin Bieber’s feature on Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee’s hit “Despacito” adds English verses to the song, making it more palatable to American listeners. Bad Bunny resists this pattern by singing almost entirely in Spanish. In doing so, he creates a powerful gesture for the island of Puerto Rico, its diaspora on the mainland, and the millions of Spanish speakers in the United States. This statement comes at a particularly meaningful time in American politics.
Bad Bunny has recently concluded a series of sold-out shows in Puerto Rico and is gearing up for a world tour. However, he has explained in the press that the tour will not feature shows in the United States because he fears his concerts becoming targets of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) deportation raids. When Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem appeared on The Benny Show, an independent podcast, she responded to whether ICE would be present at the Super Bowl, “Yeah, we’ll be all over that place. And I can’t— we’re going to enforce the law.” Given that Super Bowl tickets average over $8,000, it remains unclear whether ICE will successfully arrest many undocumented immigrants. However, the Trump Administration certainly seems poised to use the Super Bowl halftime show as a display of power, one that Bad Bunny is prepared to subvert through a performance of cultural pride.
This isn’t the first time the Super Bowl halftime show has served as a political battleground. Last year’s performance by rapper Kendrick Lamar featured blatant symbolism, criticizing America’s unresolved racial tensions. The NFL, as an institution, however, is not formally politically affiliated. So why incite a partisan culture war? They could’ve chosen a less controversial artist to headline. If not culturally motivated, the decision to give Bad Bunny the stage could certainly be interpreted as commercially driven. The NFL published an article announcing the decision under the headline: “Global sensation Bad Bunny to perform at Apple Music Super Bowl LIX Halftime Show.” This word choice is significant; by calling Bad Bunny a “global sensation,” the NFL skips over his Puerto Rican heritage and reframes him as a universal commodity without cultural context. The headline promotes inclusivity while avoiding the complex issues of identity, belonging, and citizenship. It also hints at the profit the NFL stands to gain, not only from attracting more Puerto Rican fans but also Spanish-speaking fans worldwide. Though Bad Bunny will be paid only union minimum wage for his performance, it is worth considering how much he stands to gain from all of this exposure. Does Bad Bunny’s upcoming show signify inclusion, or is the NFL using multiculturalism for profit? Does Bad Bunny’s participation risk turning him into a symbol of the mainstream culture he seeks to challenge, or worse, is it a form of assimilation?
In February, Bad Bunny will sing for less than fifteen minutes in front of close to 100 million viewers. For him, it will be an opportunity to showcase Puerto Rican culture and identity on America’s biggest stage. For the NFL, it will reveal how much controversy the league is willing to endure in exchange for global attention. For America, Bad Bunny will test how profoundly the Super Bowl, America’s unifying ritual, is now defined by the country’s polarizing culture wars.
Edited by Elizabeth Kiff
Disclaimer: This is an article written by a Staff Writer. Catalyst is a student-led platform that fosters engagement with global issues from a learning perspective. The opinions expressed above do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication.
