If Zuffa Boxing achieves its goals, don’t shed a tear for the WBC—they’ve had it coming. Here’s the shocking truth: the WBC, long considered the guardian of boxing’s integrity, has become a symbol of entitlement and self-interest. But here’s where it gets controversial: could Zuffa’s rise actually be the wake-up call boxing needs? Let’s dive in.
In September, Dana White boldly declared, ‘I will not recognize any of the other sanctioning bodies,’ when discussing Zuffa Boxing’s ambitions. This was a stark contrast to his earlier statement, just six months prior, when he admitted, ‘They’ll still exist, but they just won’t work with us.’ Yet, Mauricio Sulaiman, the WBC president and a master opportunist, was already cozying up to Zuffa’s parent company, TKO. ‘I have absolutely no concerns about TKO,’ he told ESPN, dollar signs practically flashing in his eyes. ‘Anything that brings money into boxing is sensational.’
And this is the part most people miss: Sulaiman’s eagerness to align with TKO wasn’t just about boxing’s future—it was about securing his own relevance. He even went as far as to praise the multibillion-dollar venture involving TKO, UFC, and WWE, calling it ‘a great thing.’ But let’s be real: the WBC’s track record suggests they’re more interested in profit than principle.
Take, for instance, the infamous Mayweather-McGregor fight in 2017. When Conor McGregor, a mixed martial artist, was allowed to face the undefeated Floyd Mayweather, the WBC didn’t hesitate to create a gaudy ‘money belt’—a $1 million accessory dripping with diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds. ‘The fight was made because of money, so we have the money belt,’ Sulaiman gushed. Classy, right?
But the real controversy began when the WBC’s integrity was tested. In 2018, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez tested positive for clenbuterol. Sulaiman, whose organization had introduced a Clean Boxing Programme, defended him: ‘We know he is a clean athlete.’ Alvarez was banned by the Nevada State Athletic Commission, but by 2019, the WBC conveniently raised the allowable threshold for clenbuterol, effectively clearing Alvarez and others. Coincidence? Or calculated self-preservation?
Fast forward to 2021, when Oscar Valdez, the WBC’s junior-lightweight champion, tested positive for phentermine. Instead of taking a stand, the WBC allowed him to keep his title, with Sulaiman praising Valdez’s ‘clean’ history. Then, in 2023, Conor Benn was ‘cleared’ by the WBC despite testing positive for clomiphene—a decision that left many scratching their heads. Is the WBC truly about fairness, or are they just protecting their cash cows?
The hypocrisy doesn’t end there. When Artur Beterbiev and Dmitry Bivol delivered two light heavyweight masterpieces, the WBC undermined their undisputed champion status by demanding Bivol fight David Benavidez instead. Meanwhile, when Terence Crawford defeated Canelo Alvarez in 2025, the WBC stripped Crawford of his title for refusing to pay their $300,000 sanctioning fee. ‘The WBC is huge,’ Sulaiman claimed. But if they’re so great, why do they feel the need to chase the spotlight at every turn?
Shakur Stevenson’s 2025 victory over Teofimo Lopez was a masterpiece, yet the WBC stripped him of his lightweight title days later for moving up in weight. Stevenson’s response? ‘Take your belt, it don’t make me.’ His criticism highlights the WBC’s complacency and self-serving nature—a sentiment shared by many.
Here’s the burning question: If Zuffa Boxing succeeds in shaking up the status quo, will it expose the WBC’s flaws or simply replace one flawed system with another? And more importantly, does boxing deserve better than the WBC’s double standards and greed? Let’s hear your thoughts in the comments—agree or disagree, this conversation is far from over.
