The UFC White House event is propaganda— just not good propaganda
Donald Trump promised that June’s event would bring us some of the greatest fights in history. Naturally, he lied.
Welcome to Sports Politika, a media venture founded by investigative journalist and researcher Karim Zidan that strives to help you understand how sports and politics shape the world around us. My mission is to offer an independent platform for accessible journalism that raises awareness and empowers understanding.
If you share this vision, please consider supporting my work by becoming a paid subscriber.
When Donald Trump first announced that the White House would host a UFC event to mark the United States’ 250th anniversary, the US president told supporters it would be a “big deal”. Evidence over the last week suggests that, not for the first time, Trump may be exaggerating a little.
Trump has promised a spectacle unlike anything the UFC has staged before. “They’re going to have eight or nine championship fights – the biggest fights they’ve ever had,” Trump said in December of plans for the White House event. “Every one is a championship fight, and every one is a legendary type of fight.”
The UFC was just as bullish, with CEO Dana White promising “the greatest fight card ever assembled”; a “one-of-one incredible opportunity” to put on the “baddest card of all time”. The hype surrounding the event feels even more obnoxious when you consider that it is being held in honor of a president whose administration has overseen a brutal immigration crackdown during which two US citizens were killed, alienated many of its former allies and engaged in dubious military actions abroad
It appears that the hype is also as unjustified as it is obnoxious. When the UFC finally announced the fight card for the event last week, it fell short of Trump and White’s boasts. Instead of the “eight or nine” title fights promised by Trump, the event will feature exactly two: a lightweight championship fight between Ilia Topuria and Justin Gaethje in the main event, and an interim heavyweight title fight between Alex Pereira and Ciryl Gane. The four remaining primetime fights will feature a handful of fighters who are vocal Trump supporters such as Michael Chandler, who will face Brazilian fighter Mauricio Ruffy, and Bo Nickal, who will challenge Kyle Daukaus.
The lineup, to put it mildly, was not well received. Many fans lamented the missed opportunities to include veteran UFC stars such as Conor McGregor and Jon Jones. Even former UFC champion Ronda Rousey – once fiercely loyal to White and the UFC – admitted that “UFC’s White House card sucks”. But perhaps it was former UFC fighter Tom Lawlor who summed it up best when he tweeted: “LOL THATS IT?”
Lawlor has a point. The UFC White House event – which the organization dubbed “UFC Freedom 250” despite being timed to coincide with Trump’s 80th birthday on 14 June – can hardly be considered one of the best MMA fight cards of all time. That is not to suggest that it doesn’t have the potential to be exciting; it is just that there is very little to distinguish it from any other recent UFC event.
The blame falls squarely on White and the UFC, who fueled Trump’s hyperbole surrounding the event and allowed fans to dream. But the disappointment is also a testament to something more poignant: the UFC has become a victim of its own success.
Since purchasing the UFC in 2016, Ari Emanuel’s Endeavor has approached the UFC less as a traditional sports league and more as a scalable media property. In 2005, the year the UFC signed its first broadcast deal with Spike TV, the UFC staged just 10 events. Each felt consequential – a showcase stacked with recognizable names and fights that captured the imagination. By 2009, when I began watching the sport, that number had doubled to 20 events annually – no longer rare, but still appointment viewing. As the UFC continued to grow exponentially over the following decade, the schedule more than doubled again, ushering in an era of relentless volume. Watching UFC events no longer felt like an occasion, but an obligation.
As one fight fan wisely commented in a social media post complaining about the UFC White House card: “UFC peaked 2007-2016.”
In August 2025, the UFC signed a seven-year deal with Paramount valued at about $7.7bn. The deal moved the UFC’s marquee events away from the pay-per-view model that had sustained the organization since its inception. Instead, Paramount’s direct-to-consumer streaming platform, Paramount+, would air 13 marquee numbered events and 30 Fight Nights for a total of 43 UFC shows in 2026. And though White sold the deal as “incredible for UFC fans and our athletes” in the official press release, the truth is that it seemingly ended the UFC’s desire to assemble blockbuster events, since the promotion is no longer trying to sell individual pay-per-view cards.
The UFC White House card is just one of the 43 events that the organization is obligated to produce in 2026. Instead of exhausting its resources to appease Trump’s whims, the UFC took the sensible – albeit disappointing – decision not to place all its eggs in one basket. The UFC White House card is also expected to cost upwards of $60m, with the organization expecting to recoup at least half that sum through sponsorships. This has likely factored into the UFC’s decision not to add to its hefty bill by including marquee names like Jones or McGregor, the former claiming he was “lowballed” by the UFC when negotiating to be on the White House fight card. White, in turn insisted that the UFC had no intention of featuring the former two-division champion on the show. It is not as though the organization had a shortage of (cheaper) options outside of Jones. “Everybody wants to fight on this card,” White said last year. “Literally everybody.”
The irony, of course, is that the UFC White House card is supposed to be more than just another UFC event. It is the Trump show – a one-of-a-kind spectacle on the South Lawn of the White House, held both to commemorate America’s birthday, and his own. The UFC spent the better part of the last decade laundering Trump as the quintessential fighter. White maintains a close friendship with Trump and has stumped for him across three presidential campaigns. He has also credited himself with convincing Trump to pivot to podcasts during the 2024 campaign, a decision that helped the president win over undecided young male voters.
As I wrote in an article in the Guardian nearly six years ago, the UFC is the sports arm of Trump’s Maga regime. It helped put Trump back in the White House and remains a platform for his loyal base of supporters. The UFC White House event is the culmination of that union: a night of authoritarian theatre for a president whose second-term politics – from terrorizing immigrants to dropping bombs across three continents – boils down to a single governing principle: might is right.
It’s just too bad the fights themselves won’t be worth the price of admission.
First published in The Guardian.
Sports Politika is a media platform focusing on intersection of sports, power and politics. Support independent journalism by upgrading to a paid subscription ( or gift a subscription if you already have your own). We would appreciate if you could also like the post and let us know what you think in the comment section below.
This event (and subsequently tying themselves to the administration) is going to be such an albatross around the UFC and TKO's neck. Who could have forseen committing to this card well in advance that they'd be running it during an incredibly unpopular war and just ahead of its impending economic consequences?
I heard people say Francis Ngannou scammed the PFL, but I don't think there's not a bigger scam than Endeavor finessing Paramount for 7.7 billion dollars.