As Mexico’s national anthem rang out in stadiums and bars during the World Cup, many Mexican Americans said they finally learned the lyrics—and felt a wider emotional pull toward Latin America’s shared messages of resistance and freedom. In Santa Ana, one Colo
When Mexico’s World Cup match against Czechia started, the moment hit fast—too fast to stay casual.
The Telemundo announcer said it was time for Mexico’s national anthem. At Azteca Stadium in Mexico City. the public address system played a short string intro. and the ritual snapped into place. The narrator stood up from a living room couch. pressed a right hand against the chest horizontally. and recited the opening lyrics—lyrics they said they have heard their whole life but only began committing to memory this month.
Mexicanos al grito de guerra,
El acero aprestad y bridón,
Y retiemble en sus centros la tierra,
Al sonoro rugir del cañon.
Those words—described in the piece as “florid 19th century” language—land with a force that surprised the writer. The goosebumps were immediate as the anthem continued. and the camera panned to Mexico’s head coach Javier Aguirre. beaming while singing. The players, arm-in-arm, shouted the line “Piensa, o patria querida!. Que el cielo te dio un soldado en cada hijo”—with the piece spelling it out as “Think. o beloved homeland!. That heaven/gave you a soldier in each son.” The emotion, the writer says, wasn’t just national pride. It was something closer to a wake-up jolt.
For millions of Mexican Americans like the author. the piece says. World Cup anthems have become a new kind of participation. During this tournament, they’re not just humming along or staying quiet. The pre-match minutes have turned into a bridge to one half of a hyphenated life—and a reminder of what it means to root for “El Tri” in a political moment the writer describes as hostile toward Latinos.
The piece points to an atmosphere beyond Mexico’s borders: stadiums and bars packed with Latinos wearing jerseys of their ancestral homes. warbling their national anthems. It also places the experience against the backdrop of President Trump. describing him as pushing to “smash Latin America into submission” while persecuting too many people stateside.
That tension comes into focus in downtown Santa Ana earlier this week. where Alicia Rojas recited Colombia’s national anthem word for word before a game against the Democratic Republic of the Congo. She did it even though. the piece notes. she was just one of a handful of Colombian fans at Chapter One: The Modern Bistro.
“It reconnects me to my roots. my family and the memories of home. ” said Rojas. who was born in Bogotá and moved to the U.S. at age 12. The piece says she has helped organize against federal immigration raids in Orange County and volunteers for local political races. Rojas also said. “Those few minutes remind me that beyond our differences. we share a history. a culture and a love for the land that made us who we are.”.
That line sits inside a broader argument the piece makes about identity in the U.S. Latinos, the writer says, are often divided in a way that complicates any single label. A 2024 Pew Research Center survey is cited: 52% of Latinos prefer to refer to themselves by their family’s country of origin. while 30% identify as Hispanic or Latino and 17% use “plain ol’ American.”.
Even so. the piece says one thing can unite people across those divisions—especially those who love liberty as much as football. It’s the shared language of national anthems across Latin America. which the writer describes as frequently written in the aftermath of wars for independence. The piece says most are “bright” and “rousing. ” even for listeners who don’t understand Spanish. because their chords reflect Romantic classical music popular in the 19th century. And it says the anthems repeatedly call for countrymen to fight against tyranny.
The writer strings together examples that underscore that shared theme: Paraguay’s anthem begins with the people of the Americas being “oppressed for three centuries” until they rebelled. Ecuador’s recalls founding fathers “cried out a holy voice to the heavens/that noble voice of a unbreakable pledge/to defeat that [Spanish] monster of blood.” Colombia’s. the piece adds. doesn’t shy away from violence but finds solace in “in furrows of pain/good now germinates.”.
Argentina calls to “Hear the sound of broken chains/See noble equality enthroned.” Uruguay calls “Tyrants: Tremble!/We shall cry out ‘Liberty’ in battle!” and is described as sounding like “a Rossini overture” with flutes and violins. Panama’s anthem ends by urging “shovel and pick/to work without delay. ” presented as a reminder that building a better society is never done.
The writer also acknowledges the political backlash that can come with singing any national anthem beyond U.S. borders. Conservatives. the piece says. have long railed at the idea of singing the national anthems of other countries on American soil. It counters by invoking Samuel Johnson’s adage about patriotism. arguing there’s nothing wrong with drawing inspiration from other countries’ “clarion calls.” The writer says they sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” with all their heart and references O Canada and “God Save the King. ” along with “La Marseillaise. ” as revolutionary songs that have been chanted for centuries.
But the piece argues the deeper message of those anthems doesn’t land the same way in politics unless it turns into action. The U.S. national anthem, the writer says, is not enough for Latinos right now—especially with what the author describes as resignation under Trump.
What the writer calls the “shared strain” of Latin America’s anthems is that they demand opposition to despotism and push for a better world through “sacrifice and valor.” The piece frames those songs as a wake-up call for Latinos. urging them to lead the electoral charge against Trump this November. It also says Latinos “helped put him in the Oval Office in 2024” and argues they have the power to take Congress away from his GOP vassals.
Then the piece shifts to the grim counterpoint: it says Latin America is swinging rightward again. electing presidents who promise to channel strongmen of the past and rule through might rather than right. On the same night Rojas was cheering on Colombia. the piece says. she was also lamenting that her homeland elected Abelardo de la Espriella—described as a millionaire criminal defense lawyer and political novice—who earned Trump’s endorsement. The piece says the endorsement cited “tremendous accomplishments in life. ” including the claim that female voters would pick him because of the supposed size of his genitals.
In response, the writer invokes Latin American heroes—Simón Bolívar, Emiliano, Zapata, José Martí—calling for the hopes and dreams those figures represented: freedom from colonialism and imperialism and pan-American alliances instead of “forever wars.”
The closing returns to the World Cup, treating the sport’s unofficial pre-game soundtrack as more than tradition. Mexico dominated Czechia 3-0 and finished first in its group. The piece says that when El Tri plays again on Tuesday in the first round of the knockout stage. the writer will stand at a packed Chapter One with other fans and “so many more across the U.S.” and sing Mexico’s national anthem again.
This time. the writer says. the goal is to have it memorized instead of reading from a smartphone—because the author describes the Spanish as archaic. the intonations as complicated. and the words as tumbling like a hard charge toward the goal posts. The piece ends with a vow: the anthem may be one song. but for the writer. it’s tied to a “long battle for freedom that never ends.”.
World Cup Mexican national anthem Alicia Rojas Santa Ana Colombia anthem Trump immigration raids Latino identity Chapter One: The Modern Bistro Azteca Stadium Javier Aguirre