Reggaetón’s history has been marked by transformation and contradiction. Once emblematic of marginalized, racialized communities, it became a symbol of Puerto Rican nationalism and now plays a role in the right-wing politics of Puerto Rico and its diaspora in the United States. This essay examines this seemingly paradoxical trajectory, exploring how reggaetón has moved from a criminalized cultural expression to a globally celebrated genre—and how it is now being wielded in political arenas that once sought to suppress it.
In February 1995, police seized Wiso G.’s Sin Parar—the first underground reggaetón cassette to hit Puerto Rico’s mainstream—from six San Juan stores. These raids were carried out under the Partido Nuevo Progresista’s (PNP) “Mano Dura Contra el Crimen” policies,[1] which criminalized reggaetón and other aspects of the culture of caseríos, public housing projects in Puerto Rico, This period serves as a reminder of the harsh stigma faced by reggaetoneros, prompting cultural responses like Ivy Queen’s “Somos Raperos, Pero No Delincuentes.”[2] Just a decade later, reggaetón’s trajectory would take a dramatic turn. Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” became a global phenomenon in 2005, marking reggaetón’s entry into the global mainstream and prompting many to embrace it as a cultural export and symbol of Puerto Rican identity. Frances Negrón-Muntaner and Raquel Z. Rivera described this cultural moment with the idea of Puerto Rico as a so-called “Reggaeton Nation.”[3] By 2003, even figures like Senator Velda González of the Popular Democratic Party (PPD) were using reggaetón in their political campaigns. This trend has only become more widespread in recent years.
This shift, as ethnomusicologist Wayne Marshall notes in his seminal essay, represented a transformation from “Música Negra to Reggaetón Latino” (19).[4] Originally rooted in the home studios of impoverished, criminalized, and racialized communities—not just in Puerto Rico, but in diasporic circuits that include Panama, Jamaica, and New York—reggaetón is now one of the defining genres of Latinidad. However, its transition to global recognition came with a significant erasure of Blackness, reflecting broader patterns of anti-Blackness within Latinidad itself.[5] Scholar Petra Rivera-Rideau highlights how certain reggaetón artists— perhaps most notably Tego Calderón—preserved the defiant spirit of the nineties underground scene, embedding critiques of racial democracy’s erasure of Blackness into their music (93).[6] Nonetheless, it is notable that most of the Puerto Rican reggaetón artists who have attained the highest levels of commercial success are either white or sufficiently approximate whiteness: Daddy Yankee and Bad Bunny being perhaps the biggest examples.[7]
It is important to keep this history of gradual commercialization and blanqueamiento of reggaetón in mind, as it makes the seemingly paradoxical alignment between reggaetón and right-wing politics legible within a history that has aggregated and absorbed multiple political forces. Instead of understanding this alignment as some sort of historical twist, it is more accurate to understand it as a magnification of a historical process that has been operating from the moment that underground broke into the Puerto Rican mainstream. Regardless, thinking back to the vantage point of Wiso G’s Sin Parar, the current situation is somewhat hard to fathom. Who could have imagined then that reggaetón artists would be sharing the stage with the Presidential candidate of the Republican Party?
During Donald Trump’s 2024 reelection campaign, his team strategically leveraged reggaetón to court Latinx voters, particularly Puerto Ricans. At a rally in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, Trump introduced reggaetón artists Anuel AA and Justin Quiles, asking the crowd in his usual brash style, “Do you know who the hell they are? […] I don’t think these people know who the hell you are. But it’s good for the Puerto Rican vote.” It is worth sitting with Anuel AA’s words when endorsing Trump, as they reveal some of the internal contradictions within the pro-statehood discourse he seems to align with: “I’m from Puerto Rico. We are a big part of the United States, we really depend on the United States. […] So all my Puerto Ricans, let’s stay united, let’s vote for Trump. I personally spoke with him; he wants to help Puerto Rico grow and succeed as a country.” Anuel’s remarks present Puerto Rico as both “a big part” of the U.S. and “dependent” on it, while Trump claims to help Puerto Rico grow “as a country.” While it is normalized among Puerto Ricans on both sides of the political spectrum to refer to our barely self-governing territory[8] as a “country,” observing that rhetoric being mobilized in the same breath as “Make America Great Again” underscores the deep tensions and inconsistencies within the pro-statehood narrative—one that simultaneously asserts Puerto Rico’s integral place within the United States while framing its growth and success in terms typically reserved for independent nations.
Trump’s use of reggaetón as a campaign tool highlights the genre’s growing political significance amid Puerto Rican displacement, expanding the diaspora’s voting power in U.S. elections. Nicky Jam, another established reggaetón star, withdrew his Trump endorsement after comedian Tony Hinchcliffe referred to Puerto Rico as a “floating island of garbage,” but not before Trump said of Jam, “she’s hot,” mistakenly assuming the reggaetón star was a woman.[9] Hinchcliffe’s comment highlighted the contradictions in Anuel AA’s endorsement, where Puerto Rico is seen as both part of and dependent on the U.S., revealing the fragility of the unity that reggaetón’s use in these campaigns suggests.
This is not the first time reggaetón has intersected with electoral politics in the continental United States, nor the first time a reggaetón artist has supported the Republican Party. Daddy Yankee notoriously endorsed John McCain in 2008: “I am here endorsing Senator McCain because I believe in his ideals and his proposals to lead this nation. He has been a fighter for the Hispanic community, and I know that for me personally, I chose him as the best candidate because he has been a fighter for the immigration issue.”[10] McCain’s economic policies, particularly his support for low taxes and free-market capitalism, align with reggaetón’s celebration of individual success, wealth, and material gain—values often promoted in the genre, particularly by an artist like Daddy Yankee, who is the poster boy for the “started from the bottom, now we’re here” success story in reggaetón culture. While Anuel AA’s endorsement of Trump mostly repeated the myth of Puerto Rico’s “dependency” on the U.S., Daddy Yankee’s endorsement echoed a similarly false narrative, framing immigration as a problem and positioning the Hispanic community’s role in U.S. politics through a conservative lens. In a not-unrelated shift, Daddy Yankee has recently embraced Christianity, joining a growing number of reggaetón artists transitioning from the genre’s flashy, capitalist ethos to preaching religious values. This marks yet another turn in the reggaetonero-to-preacher pipeline.[11]
Nonetheless, the Trump endorsements seem like a magnification, and it represents the genre’s entanglement with a figure whose policies and rhetoric have often been directly harmful to Puerto Rican communities. Trump’s infamous paper towel toss at Puerto Ricans after Hurricane María is unforgettable, especially with Jenniffer González, then Resident Commissioner of Puerto Rico, smiling beside him.[12] While outrage over Trump’s actions is warranted, it’s crucial to also examine how Puerto Rican politicians, like González, continue to collaborate with the Republican Party and the U.S. government, perpetuating the colonialism that harms Puerto Ricans.
Like Trump, Jenniffer González has similarly embraced reggaetón at her rallies despite her party’s historical role in its criminalization. At the closing of her gubernatorial race, González gathered with classic reggaetón artists like Ranking Stone, Lennox, DJ Nelson & Alberto Stylee, and DJ Playero. DJ Playero was the DJ behind “Playero 37,” the first underground-reggaetón recording that circulated widely, first through informal channels and later receiving a wide release. DJ Nelson has also been instrumental in the development of reggaetón, contributing to “The Noise” productions of 1994 and continuing to produce hits with a variety of artists over the years. While Trump is obviously ignorant of the genre and its history, and his use of its artist is clearly a calculated political move, González portrays herself as an enthusiastic connoisseur of reggaetón. In a video circulated on Facebook, you can even see her showing off her dance moves during a political rally.[13] In another video on TikTok, you can see her enthusiastically speaking about her love of Daddy Yankee, Anuel AA, Jowell & Randy and what she refers to as the reggaetón “old school.”[14]
The fact that González can claim a certain level of authenticity in her use of reggaetón does not make it any less of a political strategy. Other elements of her campaign, like her arrival at PNP activities in a Can-Am and the endorsement she received from the motorist known as Rey Charlie, also directly aim to appeal to the low-income populations and/or residents of public housing in which reggaetón flourished in the first place. This populist strategy by the PNP represents a marked departure in the relationship that this party established with residents of public housing with the “Mano Dura Contra el Crimen” measures of the nineties.
González’s campaign reflects a broader trend in Puerto Rican politics, where reggaetón has shifted from a marginalized genre to a tool of political mobilization across both right-wing and left-wing agendas. Reggaetón has always had an oppositional element, as seen in the work of artists like Ivy Queen and Tego Calderón. In recent years, it has been mobilized within more traditionally left-wing circles. During the protests of 2019, for example, when nearly one million people flooded the streets calling for Governor Ricardo Rosselló’s resignation, Residente, Bad Bunny, and iLe released “Afilando los Cuchillos,” a rap song that for many became the unofficial anthem of the protests. A more grassroots example from the same protests was the proliferation of “combative perreos,”[15] which took place not only in San Juan but also in Puerto Rican enclaves across the continental United States, showing solidarity with the political protests in the archipelago.[16] These “combative perreos” represented feminist and LGBTQ mobilizations of reggaetón, reclaiming the genre as a space of resistance against the patriarchal and heteronormative structures embedded in both politics and the music industry. This tension is not new—artists like Ivy Queen have long challenged reggaetón’s masculinist rhetoric, as seen in “Yo Quiero Bailar,”[17] which asserts female sexual agency against male dominance. Just as reggaetón’s leftist mobilizations have built on this legacy (“Si no puedo perrear, no es mi revolución”),[18] its appropriation by right-wing politics often leans into the genre’s hypermasculine aesthetics, reinforcing a conservative vision of power and control—one largely shaped by male artists who dominate the genre’s right-wing presence, such as Anuel AA and Nicky Jam.
Reggaetón’s involvement in Puerto Rican electoral politics reached a new milestone with the participation of Residente and Bad Bunny in the campaign closing for the alliance between the PIP (Puerto Rican Independence Party) and the MVC (Movement for Citizen Victory).[19] In a widely circulated video on social media, Bad Bunny is seen meeting and embracing Roy Brown, a key figure in Puerto Rico’s nueva trova and leftist, pro-independence movements.[20], [21]
In a 1995 essay following the Wiso G raids, columnist Liliana García Arroyo questioned whether reggaetón could move beyond what she saw as obscenity to become a revolutionary force, much like the Puerto Rican nueva trova movement of the 1960s, challenging capitalism and advocating for the working class. Her insight proved prescient, given the activism of artists like Residente and Bad Bunny. Yet, as reggaetón shed the “obscenity” García Arroyo critiqued, what else has been lost? Once rooted in the caseríos, the genre now serves dominant political currents—pro-statehood, pro-independence, right-wing, and left-wing—while sidelining the “obscene” concerns of the marginalized Black communities that created Reggaetón’s unlikely alignment with right-wing politics is not as paradoxical as it may seem. The genre’s journey from the caseríos to Trump rallies reflects the broader commodification of marginalized cultures, where survival often necessitates transformation, and defiance is absorbed into the mainstream. This commodification highlights the contradictions within Latinx identity and its political expressions, where the survival of cultural forms often comes at the cost of their original subversive edges. As reggaetón evolves, it remains a site of cultural production and ideological struggle—a testament to its survival and its ability to both illuminate and complicate the structures of power with which it engages.
Endnotes
[1]Cepeda, Eduardo. “Mientras Que El Reggaetón Se Convierte En Pop, Nunca Olvidemos Las Raíces Negras Del Género.” Remezcla, April 2, 2020. https://remezcla.com/features/music/tu-pum-pum-mientras-que-el-reggaeton-se-convierte-en-pop-nunca-olvidemos-las-raices-negras-del-genero/ ; Rivera, Raquel Z. “Policing Morality: Underground Rap in Puerto Rico.” Against the Current 62 (June 1996). https://againstthecurrent.org/atc062/p2425/.
[2]MiggyShow Tv, dir. The Noise – Somos Raperos Pero No Delincuentes (En Vivo) Años 90 💥. 2020. 08:16. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qn_Uetlp2Xo.
[3]Negrón-Muntaner, Frances, and Raquel Z. Rivera. Reggaeton Nation. NACLA, 2007. https://nacla.org/reggaeton-nation/.
[4] Marshall, Wayne. “From Música Negra to Reggaeton Latino: The Cultural Politics of Nation, Migration, and Commercialization,” in Reggaetón, edited by Raquel Z. Rivera, Wayne Marshall, and Deborah Pacini Hernández, Duke University Press, 2009, pp. 19–76.
https://www.dukeupress.edu/reggaeton
[5]Flores, Tatiana. “‘Latinidad Is Cancelled’: Confronting an Anti-Black Construct.” Latin American and Latinx Visual Culture 3, no. 3 (2021): 58–79. https://doi.org/10.1525/lavc.2021.3.3.58.
[6]Rivera-Rideau, Petra R. Remixing Reggaetón: The Cultural Politics of Race in Puerto Rico. Duke University Press, 2015. https://doi.org/10.1515/9780822375258.
[7]Vazquez, Nina. “The Erasure of Blackness in Reggaeton – AAIHS.” African Diaspora. Black Perspectives, February 14, 2024. https://www.aaihs.org/the-erasure-of-blackness-in-reggaeton/.
[8]Lamba-Nieves, Deepak, Sergio M. Marxuach, and Rosanna Torres. PROMESA: A Failed Colonial Experiment? Policy Brief. Center for a New Economy, 2021. https://grupocne.org/2021/06/29/promesa-a-failed-colonial-experiment/.
[9]McCausland, Phil, and Christal Hayes. “Tony Hinchcliffe: Backlash after Comedian at Trump Rally Calls Puerto Rico ‘Island of Garbage.’” BBC, October 29, 2024. https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cy9jj2g75q4o.
[10]Bentley, John. “Daddy Yankee Backs McCain.” CBS News, August 25, 2008. https://www.cbsnews.com/news/daddy-yankee-backs-mccain/.
[11]Roiz, Jessica. “Reggaeton Con Religion: Farruko, Don Omar & More Artists Who’ve Embraced Faith.” Billboard, March 17, 2022. https://www.billboard.com/music/latin/reggaeton-artists-religious-farruko-don-omar-1235041992/.
[12]Vitali, Ali. “Trump Launches Paper Towel Rolls into Crowd in Puerto Rico.” NBC News, October 3, 2017. https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/white-house/trump-s-roll-puerto-rico-n807216.
[13]Inside Beauty PR. Jennifer González Bailó Con Todo y Le Zumbó Con Todo al Conejo 🐰✨. 🎶 Ella No Es Vegetariana 🌱 Pero Se Come al Come al Conejo” 🤭 Faceboook, September 22, 2024. https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=876798811086391
[14]vocesdelcambio on TikTok. “¿Qué Música Escucha Jennifer Gonzáez?” TikTok, November 1, 2024. https://www.tiktok.com/@vocesdelcambiopodcast/video/7432330808100162858.
[15]Claudio, Karla. PERREO COMBATIVO. Vimeo, July 25, 2019. https://vimeo.com/350139441.
[16] Gonzalez, Damaly. “Reggaeton Feminista: Perreo as a Tool for Self‑Empowerment.” Intervenxions, The Latinx Project at NYU, 5 Sept. 2023, https://www.latinxproject.nyu.edu/intervenxions/reggaeton-feminista-perreo-as-a-tool-for-self-empowerment Accessed 9 June 2025.
[17]IvyQueenLaDiva FC. Yo Quiero Bailar (Video Oficial). 2021. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KvJsfBuhIU.
[18] Fernández, June. “Si no puedo perrear, no es mi revolución.” Pikara Magazine, 10 July 2019, www.pikaramagazine.com/2019/07/si-no-puedo-perrear-no-es-mi-revolucion/. Accessed 9 June 2025.
[19] Arroyo, Juan J. “Bad Bunny Takes a Stand in Puerto Rico’s Election: ‘I’m Here Because I Love My Country.’” Rolling Stone, 5 Nov. 2024, https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-latin/bad-bunny-election-puerto-rico-1235154500/ Accessed 9 June 2025.
[20]benoposts. “BAD BUNNY on Instagram: ‘Encuentro de Bad Bunny y Roy Brown Anoche En El “Festival de La Esperanza” En Puerto Rico. Instagram, November 4, 2024. https://www.instagram.com/benoposts/reel/DB9zGFtSuak/.
[21] Nueva trova, a musical tradition that emerged in the late 60s, was heavily influenced by Cuban artists like Pablo Milanés and Silvio Rodríguez and often included politicized lyrics.