Songs of Protest: From the Kitchens to the Streets of Latin America
Recent music activism in Latin America leaves people wondering if arranging melodies and strumming instruments can really help create harmony for the people.
Music is one of society’s best teachers. In Songs of Protest, writers analyze some of music’s greatest hits, using their findings to make sense of the world around them.
Written by Samantha Paradiso
Photo Courtesy of NPR and Time
Puerto Rico saw its initial seedlings of turmoil on July 8 when #Telegramgate, also known as Ricky Leaks, exposed former governor Ricardo Rosselló’s private discussions to the public eye. Numerous conversations saturated with offensive slurs and misogynistic and homophobic sentiments left the Puerto Rican people up in arms. Over one million protestors, a fourth of the Borinquen people, marched out on the streets and participated in demonstrations denouncing the corruption and mismanagement that has plagued their people for decades. Only a few weeks later, Rosselló announced his resignation set for Aug. 2, marking a monumental victory for the Caribbean island. Prior to his resignation, no other governor had resigned or been impeached under the Constitution of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico.
One fourth of Puerto Rico’s population protesting on Expreso Las Américas courtesy of BBC
These achievements, accredited to the relentless efforts of the Puerto Rican people, were accomplished with the help of some big names, too. Acclaimed reggaeton artists Residente and Bad Bunny protested alongside their fellow Boricuas, chanting “Ricky, te botamos! [We throw you out, Ricky!]” Upon the release of Rosselló’s incriminating conversations, Bad Bunny immediately halted his European tour to return to Puerto Rico and protest. Rapper Residente urged his followers to join the protests, stating, “nosotros no vamos a esperar ningún residenciamiento… No nos vamos a quitar. Somos más [We are not going to wait for any impeachment… We’re not going to back down. We’re more].” Almost as a celebration, the two artists released a music video to their collaborative song, “Bellacoso,” on July 25, the day after Rosselló’s announcement. Close contact participation from A-list artists in protests like these is unprecedented, and other members of the Latinx music scene have taken note of the reggaetoneros’ activism to protest in their own countries.
Last October, outrage exploded amongst the Chilean people after Santiago’s Metro announced an increase in bus fare, from 800 Chilean pesos to 830. This led to the #evasionmasiva, a student led protest where transit riders evaded fares by jumping stations. The campaign soon escalated, and excessive vandalization led to the damage of 81 metro stations, leading President Sebastián Piñera to announce a state of emergency in various provinces. Though spectators may perceive this increase as 30 meager pesos, it’s important to recognize that Chileans spend 20% of their wages on transportation alone. In addition to many other issues in education, medicine, and the environment, this increase was the last straw for the Chilean people.
Many artists took to social media to voice their outrage, with Mon Laferte expressing the people’s disappointment with one sentence: “Esto ha sido la gota que rebalsó el vaso de un sin fin de abusos que han venido sucediendo [This has been the drop that caused the cup of endless recurring abuse to overflow].” Hashtags like #chiledesperita became flooded with messages of musicians voicing their opposition to the military presence on the streets. Soon after, Ana Tijoux released her protest anthem, “#cacerolazo,” its title referring to a form of protest where individuals bang pots and pans together to antagonize policemen and militia.
913.5k Likes, 27.5k Comments - mon laferte (@monlaferte) on Instagram: "Mi cuerpo libre para una patria libre. @latingrammys #latingrammys Instagram lo censura por eso..."
Then, Mon Laferte made a bold statement at the 2019 Latin Grammys by removing her coat, revealing her bare chest marked with the statement “En Chile torturan, matan, y violan [Chile tortures, kills, and rapes].” Later, in an Instagram post, her caption to the above image stated, “Mi cuerpo libre para una patria libre [My free body for a free motherland].” Even though the artist followed the app’s guidelines by covering her nipples, she later stated that she was shadowbanned after this post. A month later, she released her protest anthem “Plata Ta Tá” featuring Guaynaa, with cover art alluding to her bodily protest at the awards ceremony. Using the raucous rhythm of banging pots to dictate the song’s reggaeton beat, its sound differs greatly from the artist’s typical vintage and rosy pop. Rather than covering her usual romanticism as she does in her ballads, Mon instead sings:
Esta generación tiene la revolución
Con el celular tiene más poder que Donald Trump
De Ecatepec a Nueva York
Toda la gente quiere darle al flow
Aunque nos quedemos cojos
Aunque nos arranquen los ojos
Le entré al reggaetón
Y hasta el culo te muevo
Pa' así mandarte el mensaje de nuevo
[This generation has the revolution
With their cell phone they have more power than Donald Trump
From Ecatepec to New York
All the people want to try the flow
Even if we become lame
Even if they rip our eyes out
I gave into reggaeton
And I even make your ass shake
To send you the message again that way]
Not only does she protest by explicitly encouraging listeners to participate in activism towards the revolution, but her choice in genre also alludes to the underlying roots of Latinx struggle. Reggaeton hasn’t exactly been revered in the community, and considering the lack of representation in the 2019 Grammy nominations, it’s still a prevalent issue today. Despite its minimal recognition, however, the genre bases itself in resistance, often covering topics like inner-city life and violence. By collaborating with a reggaetonero and delving into the urban genre for musical protest, Mon Laferte further contributes to her activism.
Ana Tijoux and Mon Laferte aren’t the only Chilenxs fusing music and protesting together. In December of 2019, masses of women demonstrated in front of the Chilean Supreme Court in Santiago, protesting violence against women. Titled “Un violador en tu camino [A rapist in your path],” the demonstration consisted of a choreographed chant denouncing the patriarchy’s participation in sexual assault, victim blaming, and the lack of convictions for rape cases in the Chilean judicial system. Many of the women in the presentation donned statements like “el violador eres tu [you’re the rapist]” on their body and wore blindfolds while repeatedly chanting. “Y la culpa no era mía, ni dónde estaba, ni cómo vestía [And the fault was neither mine, where I was, nor how I dressed].” These self-titled “intervenciones,” or interventions, caught massive worldwide attention, and similar demonstrations were performed in Washington, Istanbul, Bogota, and Paris, among other locations. What started as an isolated protest organized by an unknown feminist faction quickly garnered immense popularity and global participation.
To say that 2019 was an important year in music activism would be a severe understatement. From A-list celebrities to the common individual, this revolutionary participation varied across the board. The music created ranged from high level production to rudimentary instruments that came from people’s kitchen cabinets. As trite as it sounds, all of these events only further reinforced that anyone can be an activist. Though participation from popular names was crucial for change, regular citizens who marched to the frontlines with their wooden spoons and cacerolas made just as much of an impact. For the year of 2019, the clanging of pots created a momentous rhythm, and now at the turn of the decade, we’ll have to wait and see if this cacophony will reach the crescendo that is our freedom.