War is continuation of politics by other means. Maybe music is too—at least when it comes to Bad Bunny. In October 2025, the Puerto Rican reggaeton superstar announced he’ll be performing in Spanish at the Super Bowl halftime show. His message to anyone who has a problem with it? You’ve got four months to learn Spanish.

While foreign policy experts debate global power shifts—BRICS and beyond—there’s another one happening right under their nose, at the heart of America.  Bad Bunny, whether he realizes it or not, is leading a cultural clash that goes far beyond music. He is trying to achieve hegemony or at least some kind of first-class status for the Latina culture within the US mainstream culture. And at the same time, he is conquering the world, or at least part of it, on behalf of the very USA he seems to contest.

Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio—aka Bad Bunny—is a global phenomenon. Aged 31, he is already at the top of the world with over 50 million followers on Instagram and Youtube. In 2022, his album Un Verano Sin Ti became the most-streamed album of all time on Spotify. Last year, he ranked as the third-most streamed artist globally.

Is he really that good? The answer is Yes if you love latin vibes and don’t care much about lyrics.

Bad Bunny is for sure a talented singer with a rich, expressive voice. He is much more than a reggaeton artist, he can croon a bolero or compose a salsa with sophistication and a touch of tenderness. Tracks like Kloufrends and Voy a llevarte a PR are already iconic. There is a je-ne-sais-quoi there that makes them unique or remarkable to say the least. However, some of his songs lean too commercial, with simple melodies and primitive if not extremely vulgar lyrics. This makes Bad Bunny’s creation unequal with some truly excellent music and pieces of fast-food sounds.

Yet, Bad Bunny stands out, not just for his artistry, but for his personality. He’s not the stereotypical “toxic” Latin macho. He’s the sweet, goofy guy—half-kid, half-man—full of charm and warmth. Women love that.

But why the politics? Why merge one’s voice to that of pundits and politicians when one could remain on his pedestal, enjoying unanimity and popularity?

Because Bad Bunny is a nationalist who advocates for Puerto Rico’s full independence. He sees the island as a colony, fighting for its cultural survival. In his view, Puerto Rico must be decolonized to truly prosper. He fears the island could become another Hawaii—assimilated, sanitized, and stripped of identity. He doesn’t want Puerto Ricans to be forced to leave their home because of corruption and economic hardship.

“Thеy want to take my river and my beach too,

They want my neighborhood and grandma to leave,

No, don’t let go of the flag nor forget the lelolai [a rum and coconut-based beverage],

Cause I don’t want them to do you what happed to Hawaii,

[…]

You hear the jibaro [peasant] crying, another one who has left,

He didn’t want to leave to Orlando, but the corrupt ones pushed him out.”

As a matter of fact, Puerto Rico is a former Spanish colony acquired by the USA in 1898.  Although they are US-citizens, Puerto Ricans cannot vote in the US presidential elections nor send representants to the Congress. They can however move freely within the USA. Their migration to the mainland has been very active:  5.8 million Puerto Ricans live in the mainland while 3.2 million live in the island (2020).

There is a vigorous debate within Puerto Rico on the future of its relationship with the USA. Some call for independence, others for statehood, while others seek an enhanced association with America. And of course, many want the maintenance of the status quo. One thing is sure, seeking full sovereignty is a valid stance and should sound like a sweet melody to conservative ears. After all, self-determination and liberty are conservative values. In a way, Bad Bunny’s agenda is quite conservative. He wants to conserve the cultural identity of his land against global monoculture. His struggle sounds familiar to swaths of West-Europeans and even MAGA people, obsessed by the preservation of their identities. Bad Bunny wants to transmits his heritage to the next generations. This is typical conservative habitus as well as his stance on corruption. He understood that corruption is a self-inflicted poison which expels the people of the underdeveloped countries from their own land. Actually, good governance is the most straightforward way to tame migration.

What if Bad Bunny was a conservative who ignores himself! To grasp this not-so-obvious part of his identity, he should engage with thoughtful voices on the right side of the spectrum and pay less attention to Kamala Harris, whom he endorsed in the last election.

There is something else that Bad Bunny seems not to grasp. That is he is himself a threat to cultural diversity in Latin America. He is some kind of imperialist.

Reggaeton—once a niche genre—is now a cultural tsunami sweeping across the Americas. And its capital is called Puerto Rico. The main artists of the genre are whether from this island or in some kind of business or collaboration with Puerto Rican artists and producers. Few countries resist the invasion: Brazil because it speaks Portuguese and some non-spanish-speaking Caribbean islands. Even Spain is contaminated by reggaeton.

Puerto Rico isn’t a victim; it’s a cultural powerhouse. It exports its music, its style, and its identity to the rest of the world. That’s not what colonies do. That’s what empires do.

And if Puerto Rico is an empire, then Bad Bunny is its emperor—at least alongside legends like Daddy Yankee, Wisin y Yandel, Plan B, Zion y Lennox, Hector El Father, Don Omar, Tego Calderón. All Puerto Ricans.

Still, maybe “emperor” isn’t quite the right word. Maybe he’s more like a viceroy, operating under the umbrella of a much larger power: the American empire.

Because here’s the twist. Reggaeton has become the Latin extension of the US urban music. Both are recorded and distributed from Miami, New York and Los Angeles. Reggaeton emulates to a great extent hip-hop in its musicality and also in its cultural codes. Lingerie-clad women, unapologetic sensuality, streetwear, and riches: if one muted the sound while playing reggaeton music videos, he may think this is rap sung by Mexicans.  Street life and youth violence are the baseline of many reggaeton hits where the “Caserio” is the other name of the “projects” and the “el barrio” is the new “hood”.

Bad Bunny is no exception. He could’ve stuck with “Benito,” but he’s no fool—“Bad Bunny” is a reference to Disney. His videos are filled with urban culture tropes like scenes from a disco club full of attractive with girls, looking for intercourse.

What makes him different is his gender fluidity—he confidently wears heels, dresses, and embraces LGBTQ-friendly fashion. It’s bold, it’s clever, and it sets him apart. But, it does not redeem him from the vulgarity and intrinsic violence of the genre.

If I were a conservative father in Peru or Bolivia, I might see Bad Bunny as a threat to the values I hope to pass down. I might think he’s trying to reshape my cultural landscape—my own Hawaii. It goes beyond the gender fluidity; it is a matter of pure morality.  Someone who sings “I wanna feel that pussy again” (in English) is a barbarian warrior trying to evade my territory. He is a threat, not a blessing. He is the ambassador of cultural devastation.

And now, after winning the battle in Latin America, Bad Bunny wants to triumph north of Rio Grande. He does not want success, he already has it, he wants supremacy. By singing in English during NFL halftime, he is making a statement: I rule here. He is not the guest of America; he is the boss.

One could easily turn the argument back against him by underlining that diversity must be preserved.  America can not become another Puerto Rico. Everyone has his own Hawaii he seeks to preserve at all costs. The WASP and all people who feel America is an English-speaking land, irrigated by an Anglo-Saxon civilization, are entitled to feel this way. Why should they not?

They are actually as vulnerable as islanders of a small Caribbean islands. Immigration is quicky shifting the human landscape of America. Between 1980 and 2020, the Latino population in the U.S. grew from 14.8 million to 62.5 million — jumping from 11% to 19% of the total population.

What a pivot! America is rapidly becoming part of a broader Hispanoamérica, less than 200 years after Spanish and Mexican presence was pushed out of Florida, Louisiana, Texas, and the Southwest.

This time, Bad Bunny is not the islanders’ side. He famously avoids performing in the continental U.S. (aside from the Super Bowl) out of fear that ICE agents might raid his concerts looking for undocumented immigrants. Would he act the same if his own island were flooded with migrants? If Puerto Rico suddenly saw a wave of Afghan refugees, it’s hard to imagine Bad Bunny stepping in to stop local police from checking IDs at one of his concerts in San Juan.

Bad Bunny is a conqueror. He works for Puerto Rico and the United States at the same time, he sees in them two rivals but they are complementary in more than a way. They are increasingly converging towards the same identity.  America is becoming as Hispanic as it is black or white. When young Colombians and Venezuelians shake their bodies on Bad Bunny’s music, they see in him this new America. They see in him the America that resembles them. They feel American by effect of mimetic contamination.  And very few empires in the world can assimilate by mimetism. China can’t. Russia can’t. France and Western Europe are quickly loosing this ability. Let’s hope that the next Mario Vargas Llosa will emerge from this emerging America because the world has had its fair share of decadence.