When Politics Meets Pop Culture: Protest in the Spotlight

In 2023 to 2024, I spent most of my gap year working in Miami. During this time, I can remember listening to stories about journeys through jungles, detention centres, and dangerous border crossings that felt like survival more than migration. The people I met and spoke with from these backgrounds were ecstatic to be living the American Dream and working any available job. Now, a couple of years later, these stories echo on global stages, from the Grammys to political rallies, where immigration has evolved into a global phenomenon far too complex to be contained within legislative chambers alone. 

Immigration enforcement has been expanded significantly in Trump’s second term, from being one of the smaller agencies within the Department of Homeland Security. Funding has skyrocketed by '$73.8 bn due to the windfall from the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, enacted on the 4th of July 2025', states Bill Chappel. This significant rise has raised concerns about why one department has this much power. What does this mean for Trump’s domestic policy?

This expansion of immigration enforcement during Donald Trump’s final term has been framed by supporters as a necessary correction to Joe Biden’s tenure, a reassertion of national sovereignty and economic protection. This perspective emphasises that strategic investment is required to sustain domestic stability. Yet the reality is more complex. This is because many of the individuals targeted by these policies are embedded within local economies and communities, some of whom I have met and worked with. In cities like Miami, migrant labour underpins service industries, construction, hospitality, and small businesses. This is not just an urban issue, as migrant labour heavily supports agriculture and food production across the whole of the USA. For example, in Nebraska, a US meat producer, Glenn Valley Foods, had its staff cut to 30% after a raid on June 10^th 2025. 

The debate over the extremity of these immigration policies extends beyond legality and into legitimacy. What happens when national sovereignty and humanitarian ethics collide not in theory, but in lived experience? When enforcement policies are measured not only in statistics, but in disrupted families, labour shortages, and fractured communities?

These issues have seeped into modern art and popular culture. The tension between authority and empathy is illustrated by Paul Thomas Anderson’s recent movie, One Battle After Another, where conflict is portrayed not as a singular event, but as cyclical and persistent. Leonardo DiCaprio stars as an alcoholic, paranoid hippie ex-activist father and Sean Penn as a remorseless military general, who has a philosophy of the ends justify the means (my personal favourite for Best Picture and Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars).  This movie significantly shifted my perception of the USA, as it portrays the journey of extremist Human Rights activists being pursued by Government authorities while highlighting the broader internal struggles of the nation. The depiction of moral ambiguity mirrors the broader immigration debate, where hard power is illustrated as a necessary virtue, even when its human cost remains contested. 

Furthermore, drawing on my Spanish heritage, I have developed a strong appreciation for Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio, better known as Bad Bunny, who won Best Album at the 2026 Grammys. He embodies a bridge between generations, fusing contemporary reggaeton with the foundations laid by earlier Latin artists who globalised Spanish-language music. This homage was made visible during the latest Super Bowl halftime show, where Ricky Martin, a world-renowned Latin-pop musician, made a cameo. However, Bad Bunny's significance extends beyond his musical talents: during his halftime performance, he displayed the message ''The only thing more powerful than hate is love.” This intersection between culture and policy reflects a broader clash between sovereignty and humanity. As contemporary art now operates on a global political stage, an important question remains: do these cultural statements help bridge divisions, or do they risk deepening existing political polarisation? I personally believe that any political stance should be represented, especially when it’s from a perspective that isn’t heard enough on the global stage. 

My time working in Miami profoundly shapes how I interpret these developments. Many of the individuals I met had built lives and communities that quietly sustain the very nation removing them. As an American citizen, witnessing the targeted impact of ICE’s actions on families who contribute far more than they cost has forced me to confront difficult questions about the values underpinning the existing political system.  Much like the artists and filmmakers discussed here, my intention is not to criticise, but to illuminate. But we must acknowledge that the United States was not discovered - it was built by arrivals. The Constitution guarantees rights to ‘all persons’, not just citizens; a distinction that American politics has repeatedly chosen to ignore, but pop culture hasn't. Whether under Trump’s presidency or beyond it, the dialogue between politics and pop culture seems destined to intensify rather than fade. 

Words by Alex Peirson, he/him