Islam Makhachev’s Madison Square Garden triumph cements him as one of MMA’s all-time greats
New York was roaring. Under the blinding lights of Madison Square Garden – the world’s most mythologized combat arena – every eye in the building locked onto one man from a remote mountain region in southern Russia. He stood in the center of the Octagon, his face trembling with adrenaline, his voice cracking as he tried – and failed – to hold back the flood of emotion. Moments earlier, he had done something no Russian fighter had ever achieved: he claimed UFC gold in a second weight class, putting himself into a club so exclusive it barely fills a table.
He let out a primal, triumphant yell as the crowd exploded around him. The two championship belts lay draped over his shoulders, their gold plates catching the light like twin crowns.
“This is the dream! All my life for these two belts!”
he shouted into Joe Rogan’s microphone, thanking New York for its warmth – for embracing a kid from Dagestan who grew up thousands of miles and a world away from these bright lights.
That man was Islam Makhachev.
And after UFC 322, it’s no longer outlandish – or even premature – to say it: he may be the greatest mixed martial artist the sport has ever seen.
Where a Champion was forged
Islam Makhachev’s rise didn’t follow the usual script. Before he became the most complete fighter in the sport, he conquered combat sambo, tore through M-1, and rebuilt himself after a loss that would’ve derailed almost anyone else. He never sold fights with trash talk or theatrics. He just clocked in, fought, and won – until the wins turned him into a star.
His path started far from the UFC spotlight: first in taekwondo, then in Wushu Sanda, where a classmate – Abubakar Nurmagomedov – pulled him into the gym. A family move forced him to stop training for a while, and Islam poured himself into soccer, even reaching republican tournaments. But eventually the pull of combat sports won out. He found himself in a wrestling room, and soon after – in Abdulmanap Nurmagomedov’s legendary gym, grinding alongside Khabib and Abubakar.
Those years were brutal. University classes, long commutes, exhausting sessions – and a job as a security guard once he realized fighting could become a career. None of it stopped his growth.
His first major high came in 2009, when he became Russia’s combat sambo champion. His biggest early low followed immediately: a first-round exit at the world championship, while his teammates – including Khabib – struck gold. That loss stayed with him.
By 2011 he committed fully to MMA, fighting five times in one year. He knocked opponents down with kicks, dominated them on the ground, and submitted them with ease. After clearing levels in M-1 Selection and Pro FC, he stepped into M-1 Global – then the top promotion in the post-Soviet region.
His debut came against France’s Mansour Barnaoui, a future multi-promotion champion. Makhachev emptied the arsenal: clean wrestling entries, heavy top control, sharp striking. Barnaoui kept getting up and even threatened Islam’s back twice, but Islam shut it all down and won convincingly.
Four wins later, a title shot was in sight – but everyone already understood the bigger truth: Islam Makhachev had outgrown the regional scene.
He was ready for the UFC.
The road to UFC gold
When Islam Makhachev signed with the UFC in October 2014, it felt like the natural next step – the moment when a quiet phenom from Dagestan finally entered the global stage. He prepared for his debut alongside Khabib at the American Kickboxing Academy, sharpening the tools he would soon bring to the world’s toughest roster.
His UFC introduction came against Leo Kuntz. It didn’t last long. Makhachev dominated the fight, secured a quick finish, and celebrated a milestone that was significant for more than one reason: Abdulmanap Nurmagomedov, the architect of the Dagestani fighting dynasty, was in his corner. It was the first – and, as it turned out, the last – time he would coach Islam in the United States. Soon after, Abdulmanap’s visa was revoked without explanation, and he watched from afar as Islam suffered the lone loss of his career: a sudden knockout at the hands of Adriano Martins.
Islam never hid from that moment.
“I thought nobody could stop me,” he admitted later. “But this is MMA – small gloves, one punch can change everything. I changed a lot after that fight.”
What followed was a stretch of adversity that would have derailed most young prospects.
In early 2016, he dominated the Russian combat sambo championships without giving up a single point. But weeks later, a scheduled UFC fight was canceled when USADA flagged his test for meldonium – a medication he had taken legally after heart surgery and stopped before it was added to the banned list. After reviewing the case, the agency cleared him completely, and the UFC backed him publicly.
Once reinstated, he beat Chris Wade in September, then finally captured his long-desired world title in combat sambo that November – a rare accomplishment for a contracted UFC fighter, and one he refused to give up. More wins followed: a wrestling clinic over Nick Lentz, two highlight-reel finishes against Gleison Tibau and Kajan Johnson, and a nine-month layoff that set the stage for a historic matchup.
In St. Petersburg, Islam faced Arman Tsarukyan – a 22-year-old prospect who took the fight on two weeks’ notice and delivered one of the most impressive debuts of the year. The two Russians produced a high-level grappling duel that earned Fight of the Night, extended Makhachev’s streak to five, and put Tsarukyan on the map.
But injuries, travel restrictions, and reluctance from ranked contenders slowed his ascent. And then came the hardest blow of his career – the passing of Abdulmanap Nurmagomedov. Islam did not fight once in 2020.
When he returned in 2021, he came back like a man who had something to prove.
He submitted Drew Dober with his first career arm-triangle.
Four months later, he went past 15 minutes for the first time and choked out ranked lightweight Thiago Moises.
A third fight that year – against late-replacement Dan Hooker – lasted just over three minutes. Under Khabib’s calm instructions, Makhachev took Hooker down, stretched him out, shut down every escape, and finished with a clean kimura.
That win earned him a long-awaited title eliminator. When Beneil Dariush withdrew, Bobby Green stepped in – and Makhachev dismantled him in three and a half minutes. It was his tenth straight victory. At that moment, only Kamaru Usman carried a longer active winning streak in the entire promotion.
And no fighter in UFC history had ever needed a run that long just to get their first shot at the belt.
Becoming champion – and beating the best
UFC 280 delivered something the sport had never seen before: two fighters entering the Octagon on double-digit win streaks. One of those streaks had to end. Midway through the second round, Islam Makhachev slipped under Charles Oliveira’s attack, dropped him cleanly, and – unlike most lightweights – didn’t hesitate to follow the submission king to the mat. Seconds later, the arm-triangle was locked, the tap came, and the lightweight division had a new champion.
Islam dedicated the win to Abdulmanap Nurmagomedov and symbolically returned the belt to the team that had never lost it in the cage. And then Khabib grabbed the microphone – planting the seed for the biggest fight the UFC could make at the time: Makhachev vs. Alexander Volkanovski, the No.1 and No.2 pound-for-pound fighters in the world.
Just four months later, they headlined a historic superfight.
It wasn’t dripping with UFC-style theatrics, but from a pure sporting standpoint, it was the best matchup imaginable. Volkanovski charged forward relentlessly, forcing Islam to make quick adjustments to the featherweight champion’s explosiveness and unusual frame. Once he did, Makhachev put him on a knee, took his back, and ended the opening round in full control.
That became the rhythm of the fight.
Volkanovski had his moments – especially in the exchanges – and became one of the few opponents ever to challenge Islam in the wrestling scrambles. The turning point came late in Round 4: a perfectly timed shot, a smooth back take, and three and a half minutes of tight control that silenced the Australian crowd and visibly frustrated their hero. Fired up, Volkanovski stormed through the final round, denied takedowns, pushed the pace, and even dropped Islam in the closing seconds. It was a dramatic finish, but not enough. All three judges scored the fight for Makhachev.
A rematch felt inevitable – and fate moved faster than the matchmaking board. Eleven days before UFC 294 in Abu Dhabi, Charles Oliveira withdrew with a deep cut. Volkanovski answered the call immediately. Islam didn’t blink. His response now hangs on the wall at the UFC PI in Las Vegas:
“What is a title? It means you’re the best in the world. And if you’re the best in the world, it doesn’t matter who stands in front of you. You think I would say no? Never.”
No one expected the rematch to end in three minutes.
Islam feinted high, fired a head kick, reset – and then landed the same kick clean. Volkanovski never recovered. The ref hesitated, but the fight was over.
Before him, only Khabib Nurmagomedov had beaten three straight pound-for-pound contenders. Makhachev went one step further: three consecutive wins over opponents ranked in the UFC’s top three, pound for pound.
That level of dominance is almost impossible to replicate.
In just twelve months, Makhachev delivered three title defenses, earned three performance bonuses, and snapped opponents’ win streaks of 11 and 12 in a row. Weeks after the second Volkanovski fight, he rose to No.1 in the pound-for-pound rankings, swept every major Fighter of the Year award, and became a bona fide global star – despite never having defended his belt on US soil.
And that became the next goal: a title fight in America.
Two more defenses – and the end of a division
For UFC 302, the promotion had only one problem: finding someone actually available to fight Islam Makhachev. Justin Gaethje, Charles Oliveira, and Arman Tsarukyan were all locked into UFC 300 and couldn’t make a quick turnaround. That opened the door for a man no one expected to see in another title fight – but whose name still carried the weight of a legend. Dustin Poirier stepped in.
Round one was all Islam. A clean takedown, a deep kimura attempt, and more than three minutes on Poirier’s back. It looked like another routine title defense.
Then the fight turned.
Poirier refused to stay down. The striking exchanges grew sharper. And by Round 4, Poirier had sliced Makhachev open, turning the bout into a tense, tactical battle. Heading into the fifth, many had it 2–2.
That’s when champions separate themselves. Islam pushed the pace, forced a scramble that lasted fourteen grinding seconds, and finally dragged Poirier to the mat. The guillotine threat came first, then the D’Arce choke – and Poirier couldn’t escape. Submission victory.
With that win, Makhachev joined one of the rarest clubs in UFC history: fighters who have finished opponents with at least five different submissions. He also picked up both Fight of the Night and Performance of the Night – giving him five bonuses in just four title fights – and tied the lightweight record for title defenses. Then he said it plainly: he was coming for a second belt.
But there was unfinished business at lightweight.
The next challenger was Arman Tsarukyan – a rematch years in the making. Fate intervened: Tsarukyan pulled out a day before their January booking due to back issues.
Renato Moicano stepped in on short notice.
The Brazilian poked Islam in the eye, stunned him in a wild exchange that had the crowd roaring – and then got caught. Makhachev locked up the submission, closed the show, and officially became the most decorated lightweight in UFC history.
Most title wins. Most title defenses. Longest win streak in the division’s history. Even with legends like B.J. Penn and Khabib, no lightweight had ever put together a resume like this.
Six months later, the belt became vacant. Makhachev walked away from his throne – and toward the dream he had been chasing for years: a second UFC championship.
The night the dream became real
Standing between Islam Makhachev and his long-promised place in history was Jack Della Maddalena – an elite Australian striker riding an 18-fight win streak, including eight inside the UFC. In his last outing, he’d beaten Bilal Muhammad, a close friend and teammate of Makhachev, stuffing takedowns and dictating the fight on the feet. That performance only amplified the intrigue: could one of the best boxers in the sport halt Islam’s run at a second belt?
As soon as the cage door shut inside Madison Square Garden, that question disappeared.
Makhachev opened with low kicks, while Della Maddalena surged forward with his trademark pressure. Islam slipped every clean shot – and one minute in, hit his first takedown. It landed effortlessly. He immediately hunted for an arm-triangle, forced the Aussie to scramble, and kept him pinned while mixing in steady ground-and-pound. Della Maddalena tried repeatedly to stand; Islam denied every attempt. Back control, half guard, submission threats – Round 1 was one-way traffic.
The second round didn’t look any different. Della Maddalena flicked out his jab, but Islam pressed him to the fence, shrugged off a surprise throw attempt from the Australian, and once again took top position. Whenever they drifted into open space, Makhachev dragged him back into the mat. He floated through positions, punished openings, and kept chaining attacks without giving Jack a heartbeat to breathe.
Between rounds, Khabib told him one thing: don’t brawl.
Islam listened. He picked his shots carefully, landed the cleaner strikes, and – two minutes in – put Della Maddalena flat on his back again.
The pattern held. Third round: takedown, control, submission pressure. Fourth round: another smooth lift in the third minute, back take, a tight rear-naked-choke attempt, then a shift into half guard for an arm lock.
Every sequence ended the same way: Makhachev on top, Della Maddalena trapped, surviving but unable to escape.
The final round began with the Australian charging forward, desperate to turn the tide. Makhachev stopped him cold with another transition to the mat and attacked yet another submission. Della Maddalena hung on, but the story of the fight was already written. He could fight – but he couldn’t get Islam off of him.
When the scorecards were read at Madison Square Garden, the record books needed rewriting. Islam Makhachev had just become the first Russian fighter ever to win UFC titles in two divisions – and he did it with the same cold efficiency that defined every chapter of his rise.
The greatest of his era – and maybe of all time
Sixteen straight UFC victories.
Three consecutive wins over top-three pound-for-pound opponents.
Multiple submissions no lightweight before him had ever pulled off.
A complete takeover of one of the deepest, most competitive divisions the sport has ever seen.
And now a belt in a second weight class.
You can argue about greatness in MMA forever – and fans do. Some will point to Anderson Silva’s artistry, Georges St-Pierre’s discipline, Jon Jones’ longevity, Khabib’s perfection. But none of them built a resume quite like this. None of them climbed through a prime-generation lightweight division while beating elite grapplers, elite strikers, and elite hybrid fighters in every possible style of fight. None of them stood alone atop the pound-for-pound rankings while actively hunting challenges outside their division. And none of them racked up this level of dominance in their absolute prime.
So what comes next for the most decorated champion of his era? The middleweight division Islam Makhachev just entered offers a clearer picture than any other weight class of what modern MMA has become: a shark tank of explosive athletes, ruthless strikers, and hybrid technicians who can end a fight with a single mistake. Behind the new two-division champion stretches a line of contenders hungry for their shot – while the new lightweight king, Ilia Topuria, now a dual champion himself, openly teases a run at a third belt. The sport is changing fast, and its elite are no longer content to rule one kingdom.
Makhachev remains exactly who he’s always been: ready for anyone, anytime, without theatrics or negotiation. But he does have one condition for his next appearance – a historic one. The UFC is preparing a landmark event at the White House in the summer of 2026, and Islam made it clear where he wants to plant his flag.
“Donald Trump, let’s go, open the White House! I’m coming,”
he said before leaving the Octagon, smiling through the noise, a man who knows that his story isn’t close to finished.
