Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl performance wasn’t just a spectacle—it was a bold statement that challenges everything we think we know about the word ‘America.’ But here’s where it gets controversial: Was it a celebration of unity, or a defiant declaration of Puerto Rico’s independence? Let’s dive in.
By now, you’ve probably rewatched your favorite moments from Bad Bunny’s halftime show. Packed into just 14 minutes, it’s a vibrant, detail-rich performance that demands repeat viewing. For me, the standout moment comes around the nine-minute mark, when the cuatro puertorriqueño takes center stage. This traditional Puerto Rican string instrument, masterfully played by José Eduardo Santana, shines just before Ricky Martin’s appearance. It’s a subtle yet powerful nod to Puerto Rican culture—one that carries far more weight than meets the eye.
Last year, I spent months researching the cuatro for an episode of La Brega, a podcast exploring the instrument’s significance to Puerto Ricans. But seeing it featured at the Super Bowl? That was never on my radar. Its presence raises profound questions: What does it mean for a colony to have a national instrument? Does it imply that Puerto Rico is, in fact, a country? And this is the part most people miss: Bad Bunny, a vocal advocate for Puerto Rico’s independence, seems to answer with a resounding ‘yes.’ For him, Puerto Rico isn’t just a U.S. territory—it’s an American country in the truest sense, part of a broader family that doesn’t orbit around the United States.
Bad Bunny’s music has long hinted at this perspective. Take La Mudanza, the final track on his album DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS, where he references Eugenio Maria de Hostos, a Puerto Rican intellectual who famously wished to be buried in an independent Puerto Rico. Hostos, known as ‘El Gran Ciudadano de las Américas,’ dreamed of unity for the Antilles and the Americas. Bad Bunny imagines his song playing when Hostos’ remains are finally laid to rest in a free Puerto Rico, under the sky-blue flag of independence.
While La Mudanza wasn’t part of Sunday’s setlist, its spirit was undeniable. When Bad Bunny declared, ‘God Bless América,’ before listing countries of the hemisphere and leading a parade of flags—including the U.S. on equal footing with its neighbors—he wasn’t just performing. He was redefining what it means to be ‘American.’ In a sport as quintessentially ‘American’ as football, he challenged the very monopoly the U.S. has claimed over the term.
For those of us who hold Puerto Rico close to our hearts, certain words sting. Calling Puerto Rico a ‘territory’ or ‘commonwealth’ feels like a dodge, a way to avoid acknowledging its colonial status and the U.S.’s role as colonizer. Even the word ‘mainland’ is loaded—main to whom? It subtly centers the U.S. as the default, relegating Puerto Rico to the periphery. And then there’s ‘American,’ a term that spans an entire hemisphere yet is often hijacked to describe the U.S. alone.
This tension surfaced in the backlash to Bad Bunny’s performance. Right-wing critics argued he wasn’t ‘American’ enough for the Super Bowl, while liberal defenders countered, ‘He’s Puerto Rican—that’s part of America!’ But Bad Bunny’s message went deeper. He didn’t just perform for the U.S.—he invited it to a party where it wasn’t the center of attention. And in doing so, he showed that it’s okay, even liberating, to share the stage.
Here’s the question I’ll leave you with: Can the U.S. embrace a definition of ‘America’ that includes, rather than excludes, its neighbors? Let’s discuss in the comments—I want to hear your thoughts.
