Jake Paul Leads Boycott as Bad Bunny Ignites Super Bowl Firestorm

Paul Riverbank, 2/9/2026Jake Paul's boycott call against Bad Bunny's Super Bowl halftime show sparked a cultural debate about identity and belonging in America. With contrasting views, family conflict, and the celebration of Puerto Rican heritage, the performance raised pressing questions about who gets to define American identity.

On the sidelines—figuratively and online—YouTube personality Jake Paul stirred controversy. Only hours after sharing a box with Senator J.D. Vance at the Winter Olympics, Jake took to social media and lobbed a call for a boycott. His message was sharp: Bad Bunny was a “fake American citizen performing who publicly hates America.” He urged followers not simply to turn off the halftime show but to “show big corporations they can’t just do whatever they want without consequences.” The crux of his anger? A recent Grammy acceptance speech in which Bad Bunny denounced ICE’s tactics and called for unity—remarks delivered partly in Spanish, a detail not lost on critics.

Within minutes, Jake’s stance drew both support and ire. Notably, his older brother Logan Paul, no stranger to public spats, pushed back. Contradicting Jake in a public statement, Logan reminded followers that “Puerto Ricans are Americans,” voicing gratitude that “talent from the island” got center stage. WWE’s Damian Priest chimed in too, thanking Logan for using his reach to send a message of inclusion.

Fans—never ones to pass up irony—pointed out Jake’s ties to Puerto Rico. He owns a lavish home on the island, often posts photos with its flag, and has publicly praised the community. In that context, his sudden gatekeeping of American identity struck many as hypocrisy. “You own a house in Puerto Rico and fly its flag when it’s convenient,” snapped one commenter online. Another, with more bite, wrote, “But now we REAL Puerto Ricans are fake Americans? Come on.”

And it wasn’t just sibling rivalry in the headlines. Donald Trump, himself a veteran of culture skirmishes, denounced the show in the way only he can: part campaign rally, part grievance list. “Nobody understands a word this guy is saying,” he railed, panning the Spanish lyrics and elaborate stagecraft. He called the dance routines “disgusting for young children” and lamented that, as he saw it, a celebration of America’s 250th birthday had been hijacked by “foreign flags and a Spanish speaker.”

In between the social media volatility, the halftime performance unfolded with a deliberate embrace of Puerto Rican heritage. Instead of marching bands or pop anthem cliches, Bad Bunny built his stage to resemble a sugarcane field—a subtle but unmistakable anchor to the island’s past. He brought out Lady Gaga and Ricky Martin, both icons in their own right. When the show closed, he held up a football painted with the words “Together we are America.” The moment, drowned in cheers, was underscored by one final reminder beamed in lights: “The only thing more powerful than hate is love.” That line, both in English and Spanish, seemed less a platitude and more a pointed answer to the uproar swirling elsewhere.

For much of Hispanic, Latino, and Puerto Rican America, the show landed differently than it did for its critics. The performance felt like an overdue celebration—a collage of music, culture, and everyday life. It nodded to sugarcane fields, iconic street food, and, at one point, a wedding scene. The show was undeniably bold, some might even say defiant, but for millions of viewers, it was long overdue.

Still, divisions were impossible to ignore. In the buildup, Logan himself admitted—when pressed by Fox News—that he wasn’t eagerly anticipating the show. After his public defense, some wondered aloud if he was putting out fires rather than issuing heartfelt praise. Social media rarely misses a contradiction, and this episode was no different.

As with so many cultural flashpoints, the conversation quickly widened. Language, identity, and belonging collided for all to see. For those who marked Spanish as foreign, critics pointed to census numbers: Spanish is spoken at home by more Americans than any other language besides English, and Hispanics represent the nation’s largest minority demographic. What does it mean to be American, to belong, and who gets to decide? The Super Bowl halftime show, never merely entertainment, became the latest battleground for those questions.

Perhaps that’s always been the show’s real legacy—not just music and spectacle, but the messy, very human debates pulsing beneath the lights. This year offered no easy answers but plenty of reminders about the complexity of identity in America. Love trumping hate might be a familiar lyric, but in moments like these, it feels worth saying again—and again.

Few American spectacles ignite conversation quite like the Super Bowl halftime show. Equal parts musical theater, cultural flashpoint, and high-stakes branding, it’s a fixture where ordinary performances can morph into the stuff of political commentary. This year, Bad Bunny took the spotlight. Yet, while his onstage energy was hard to ignore, much of the drama played out far from the field.On the sidelines—figuratively and online—YouTube personality Jake Paul stirred controversy. Only hours after sharing a box with Senator J.D. Vance at the Winter Olympics, Jake took to social media and lobbed a call for a boycott. His message was sharp: Bad Bunny was a “fake American citizen performing who publicly hates America.” He urged followers not simply to turn off the halftime show but to “show big corporations they can’t just do whatever they want without consequences.” The crux of his anger? A recent Grammy acceptance speech in which Bad Bunny denounced ICE’s tactics and called for unity—remarks delivered partly in Spanish, a detail not lost on critics.Within minutes, Jake’s stance drew both support and ire. Notably, his older brother Logan Paul, no stranger to public spats, pushed back. Contradicting Jake in a public statement, Logan reminded followers that “Puerto Ricans are Americans,” voicing gratitude that “talent from the island” got center stage. WWE’s Damian Priest chimed in too, thanking Logan for using his reach to send a message of inclusion.Fans—never ones to pass up irony—pointed out Jake’s ties to Puerto Rico. He owns a lavish home on the island, often posts photos with its flag, and has publicly praised the community. In that context, his sudden gatekeeping of American identity struck many as hypocrisy. “You own a house in Puerto Rico and fly its flag when it’s convenient,” snapped one commenter online. Another, with more bite, wrote, “But now we REAL Puerto Ricans are fake Americans? Come on.”And it wasn’t just sibling rivalry in the headlines. Donald Trump, himself a veteran of culture skirmishes, denounced the show in the way only he can: part campaign rally, part grievance list. “Nobody understands a word this guy is saying,” he railed, panning the Spanish lyrics and elaborate stagecraft. He called the dance routines “disgusting for young children” and lamented that, as he saw it, a celebration of America’s 250th birthday had been hijacked by “foreign flags and a Spanish speaker.”In between the social media volatility, the halftime performance unfolded with a deliberate embrace of Puerto Rican heritage. Instead of marching bands or pop anthem cliches, Bad Bunny built his stage to resemble a sugarcane field—a subtle but unmistakable anchor to the island’s past. He brought out Lady Gaga and Ricky Martin, both icons in their own right. When the show closed, he held up a football painted with the words “Together we are America.” The moment, drowned in cheers, was underscored by one final reminder beamed in lights: “The only thing more powerful than hate is love.” That line, both in English and Spanish, seemed less a platitude and more a pointed answer to the uproar swirling elsewhere.For much of Hispanic, Latino, and Puerto Rican America, the show landed differently than it did for its critics. The performance felt like an overdue celebration—a collage of music, culture, and everyday life. It nodded to sugarcane fields, iconic street food, and, at one point, a wedding scene. The show was undeniably bold, some might even say defiant, but for millions of viewers, it was long overdue.Still, divisions were impossible to ignore. In the buildup, Logan himself admitted—when pressed by Fox News—that he wasn’t eagerly anticipating the show. After his public defense, some wondered aloud if he was putting out fires rather than issuing heartfelt praise. Social media rarely misses a contradiction, and this episode was no different.As with so many cultural flashpoints, the conversation quickly widened. Language, identity, and belonging collided for all to see. For those who marked Spanish as foreign, critics pointed to census numbers: Spanish is spoken at home by more Americans than any other language besides English, and Hispanics represent the nation’s largest minority demographic. What does it mean to be American, to belong, and who gets to decide? The Super Bowl halftime show, never merely entertainment, became the latest battleground for those questions.Perhaps that’s always been the show’s real legacy—not just music and spectacle, but the messy, very human debates pulsing beneath the lights. This year offered no easy answers but plenty of reminders about the complexity of identity in America. Love trumping hate might be a familiar lyric, but in moments like these, it feels worth saying again—and again.