When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat in 1955, she didn’t just resist a bus driver—she disrupted the power structure. Her defiance echoed through every system that told her to sit down, be quiet, and wait her turn. Today, in boxing, Jake Paul is having his own Rosa Parks moment. That may sound like an outrageous comparison, but the pattern is the same. Whenever someone threatens a corrupt system—from the back of the bus or the undercard of a boxing show—the system doesn’t argue. It blacklists.
According to multiple sources, Turki Alalshikh, chairman of Saudi Arabia's General Entertainment Authority and boxing’s most powerful political figure, has been threatening sanctioning bodies—telling them that if they support Jake Paul, they will no longer work with him. If those sources are accurate, that would be coercion, a modern-day form of restraint of trade. In America, we have antitrust laws for this. Our federal courts have long held that monopolistic behavior—collusion, backdoor threats, or coordinated blackballing—violates the basic principles of free enterprise. That applies to tech, to sports, and yes—even to boxing.
WBC president Mauricio Sulaiman is on record with the BBC as saying Paul could be ranked if he were to defeat Julio Cesar Chavez, Jr. Paul held up his end of the bargain, so we will watch the WBC rankings closely to see if Paul gets ranked or perhaps pressure is being exerted against the WBC as well.
THIS OP-ED PIECE IS A FOLLOW-UP TO LAST WEEK'S STORY BY THE SAME AUTHOR. PART ONE IS AVAILABLE HERE.
In fact, the Muhammad Ali Boxing Reform Act was passed precisely to combat this kind of abuse. The law prohibits coercion by promoters and protects boxers from being frozen out or retaliated against for refusing to play along. It reinforces that no promoter or power broker should be able to blacklist a fighter simply because they won’t conform. The Act’s spirit demands that boxing remain a fair playing field—not a private club.
This isn’t without precedent. In the landmark U.S. Supreme Court case Klor’s, Inc. v. Broadway-Hale Stores (1959), a large retail chain coerced multiple suppliers into boycotting a smaller competitor. The Court ruled this kind of coordinated refusal to deal—blacklisting through influence and pressure— was a per se violation of U.S. antitrust law. The parallels to boxing are clear: when someone uses their market power to freeze out competition not based on merit, but control, the law—and history—stands with the underdog.
When sanctioning bodies are pressured to exclude someone for political or personal reasons, that isn’t just unethical—it’s anti-competitive. And if Jake Paul is being denied an opportunity due to backchannel threats or coercion, the boxing world should remember: the Ali Act was written for this moment. Jake Paul didn’t come from a boxing dynasty. He wasn’t groomed by promoters. Like Lamar Hunt, the man who launched the AFL when the NFL told him to go away, Jake built his own league. Like Howard Schultz, who created Starbucks from nothing, Jake built his own platform, audience, and economics. His greatest sin? That he succeeded.
Like Al Davis, the renegade owner of the Oakland Raiders, Jake Paul refuses to conform. Davis famously sued the NFL, relocated his team against the league’s wishes, and said: “The greatness of the Raiders is in its future.” That same future belongs to fighters like Amanda Serrano—whose purses, platforms, and respect were transformed by Jake’s disruption. The truth is this: systems don’t collapse from within. They collapse when someone from the outside kicks the door open. That’s what Jake Paul did—and that’s why powerful people want him gone.
Even the Bible recognizes this pattern. In the Book of Daniel, a king demanded everyone bow before a golden idol. But three men—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—refused. They were thrown into a fiery furnace. But they didn’t burn. They walked out untouched. Why? Because they stood on conviction—not compliance. The Qur’an also echoes this theme. In Surah Al-Qasas, it tells the story of Qarun (Korah)—a man of immense wealth from the time of Moses. Qarun was arrogant, believing his riches were the result of his own knowledge and merit. His people warned him not to use his wealth to cause corruption or oppress others, but he refused. The Qur’an says: “So We caused the earth to swallow him and his home. Then he had no group to help him besides Allah, nor was he of those who could defend themselves.” (Qur’an 28:81). The context is vital: Qarun symbolizes those who believe wealth is a shield from accountability. But when wealth is used to dominate rather than uplift, it becomes a curse, not a blessing. Power without humility invites collapse.
Jake Paul isn’t pretending to be righteous. But like those men, he refuses to bow to someone else's gold.
To be fair, Turki Alalshikh has accomplished what few in boxing ever could. He’s brought together fighters, promoters, and global attention with a speed and scale that’s reshaping the boxing industry. He has elevated the sport—bringing untold wealth to fighters, making long-overdue super fights happen, and giving the public events worth watching. But true leadership isn’t about controlling outcomes—it’s about empowering all voices, even those who challenge convention. Turki has the power not just to shape boxing’s future, but to ensure it remains open to disruptors like Jake Paul. That is the mark of legacy.
Let’s talk about gold for a moment. Not long ago, Saudi Arabia was a vast desert where nomadic tribes survived without oil, electricity, or global wealth. Then, in 1938, an American company—Standard Oil of California—struck oil in Dammam. That discovery changed everything. From that moment, power flowed not from lineage or monarchy, but from access to markets, capital, and global systems. Ironically, the very nation that rose from Western energy investment is now trying to silence a Westerner who threatens its control over a sport. But history is full of reminders that wealth without principle always collapses. Kings fall. Titans of industry go broke. There are countless stories of men who came from nothing, rose to power, and lost it all chasing more. Greed clouds judgment. Power fears challenge. And those who surround themselves with yes-men often stop seeing straight.
Or as Lord Acton once said: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."
Jake Paul didn’t inherit a billion-dollar trust or an oil kingdom. He built his influence fight by fight, controversy by controversy, bet by bet. And now that he’s on the doorstep of real legitimacy, Alalshikh is allegedly using his position to block it. But if he is so confident Jake doesn’t belong, there’s a simple solution: put one of your champions in the ring with him.
Jake Paul has said he’s willing to fight Badou Jack— who is the reigning WBC cruiserweight champion, a favorite of Alalsheikh's promotional orbit, and a proven force. If this is really about merit, let the ring decide. If Jake Paul doesn’t belong, the fight will prove it. But if he wins, or even survives, then the entire narrative against him collapses.
Fight or flee, Turki. Put your money where your mouth is. You don’t get to call someone unworthy while hiding behind sanctioning bodies and whispered threats. If Jake Paul is a joke, then book the fight and let him get exposed. If he’s not… then maybe the one who needs to be humbled isn’t the fighter—but the kingmaker. The blacklist ends in two ways: with a signature on a fight contract, or with silence that tells the world who really blinked.
Jake Paul is being blacklisted not because he’s unworthy, but because he’s un-owned.
Let the record show: when boxing tried to silence Jake Paul, it wasn’t just protecting tradition. It was protecting control. And in the end, history always sides with the one who refused to bow.
