Why MMA's so-called Russian invasion may not be as Russian as you think

Their names can be hard to pronounce, and even harder for many North American fans to distinguish between.

Adlan Amagov. Rustam Khabilov. Albert Tumenov. Khabib Nurmagomedov. Omari Ahkmedov.

To many MMA fans, they all get lumped together in one easy category: Russians.

Only that doesn’t tell the whole story, and it certainly doesn’t explain why the ranks of both the UFC and Bellator MMA seem to be flooded with fighters from a very specific region of late. But the fact that much of the MMA world seems content to paint them all with the same brush is nothing too surprising for Murat Keshtov, who runs the K Dojo Warrior Tribe gym in Fairfield, N.J.

“I know how it is,” Keshtov told MMAjunkie in a recent phone interview. “Me, when I came here, every time I would be working somewhere, my co-workers would call me ‘The Russian guy.’ I’d say, ‘I’m not Russian!’ I’d explain to them where I was from and how it was different, and they’d listen to me. Then at the end, still, I’m the Russian guy. It made no difference.”

It’s the same for many of the fighters Keshtov trains, few of whom actually consider themselves Russian. Instead they are Dagestani or Chechnyan, Circassian or Ossetian. They might use Russian as the lingua franca among themselves since even small republics in the North Caucasus region, where most of these fighters come from, might make use of upward of 30 different languages. But according to Keshtov, they would never identify themselves as Russian, and are often quick to correct others who do.

Keshtov knows all about it. Although he admits he’s “Americanized” now, the 40-year-old fight trainer was born in Cherkessk, the capital of the tiny Karachai-Cherkessia Republic, where he grew up with a love for wrestling. Back then, he said, many Eastern forms of martial arts such as karate or taekwondo were banned under the Soviet Union. But once “perestroika” gave way to an influx of action films, not the least of which was the work of Bruce Lee, the already-combat-sport-minded youth in his little region between the Black and Caspian Seas grew even hungrier to learn new fighting styles.

Keshtov first came to the U.S. in the mid-90s, he said, while traveling with various Russian national martial arts teams. In 1995, after a trip with the Russian judo squad, he decided to stay and open up his own martial arts gym in New Jersey. The more acquainted he got with the local fighting scene, and the more he saw of the developing sport of MMA, the more he became convinced that athletes from his home region had a real opportunity in MMA.

“I remember watching [New Jersey-based MMA promotion] Ring of Combat,” Keshtov said. “I was always thinking, ‘Man, I wish my guys were here. They would win easily.’ In my head, it was always this idea to make a team coming from our state.”

But when Keshtov says “our state,” he doesn’t mean Russia, a nation of 143 million people with a landmass nearly twice the size of the U.S. Instead he’s thinking of the much smaller, yet in some ways much more complicated, region of the North Caucasus.

“That’s predominately where most of these fighters come from, probably 90 percent,” Keshtov said. “The new wave of fighters in UFC and Bellator comes from the south part of Russia, the North Caucasus. It’s kind of an autonomous state. It’s like a little country within a country, but it’s officially part of Russia.”

The North Caucasus is home to small republics like Dagestan, where UFC standouts like Nurmagomedov and Khabilov hail from. It’s also one of the most heterogenous regions on the globe, with a multitude of different ethnic groups spread out across several small republics.

Its geographic position as a dividing line between Europe and Asia has also made it into a place that’s gotten used to seeing conquerors and armies come and go over the centuries, which may have helped create a local culture where a variety of combat sports with diverse influences are the preferred pastime, according to Keshtov.

“Wrestling, judo, sambo, anything to do with combat is very popular there,” Keshtov said. “It’s been that way for hundreds of years. Eventually it becomes part of your culture without you realizing. If you’re a man there, especially, you have to be a fighter.”

For similar reasons, political instability in North Caucasus regions like the Chechen Republic have probably also played a role. As noted trainer Mike Winkeljohn explained recently, he wasn’t sure what to make of it the first time he cornered Chechen fighter Amagov for a UFC bout. In the locker room before the fight, Amagov was so relaxed he looked nearly catatonic, Winkeljohn told MMAjunkie.

“I asked if he was always like this before a fight, if this was normal for him,” Winkeljohn said. “He said [via a translator], ‘I lived in a tent for seven years with Russians shooting at us from helicopters. In the cage, it’s just a man.’ That was kind of like, wow, there’s some perspective.”

According to American Kickboxing Academy head coach Javier Mendez, who’s become the stateside trainer for the unbeaten Nurmagomedov, one of the things that makes fighters from the region stand out is a difference in attitude.

“Hunger is the big thing,” Mendez said. “These guys are just so hungry, and super dedicated. What comes to my mind is a loyal, trained, dedicated soldier. It’s just, ‘Yes, coach.’ All the time. They don’t tell you no.”

According to Keshtov, that attitude permeates the MMA scene back home in more ways than one, and not always with positive results.

“Here, for example, fighters are smarter (about their careers) in some ways,” Keshtov said. “They’re savvy. They look at the situation and say, ‘Should I fight this guy? Does it make sense for me? He’s 10-0 and I’m 1-0, so no way I’m going to fight him.’ Especially you see this on the regional level. But over there, they fight anybody. You have two camps trying to negotiate a fight, and if one doesn’t take it, that’s an embarrassment. Everyone will look down on him, like it’s shameful. You disgraced our clan, our family, because you didn’t fight him.”

That can also lead to some difficulties once the fighters try to get signed with North American promotions. Some don’t have spectacular records because they were overmatched early on. Others might have tons of combat sambo experience, but little in the way of officially recognized MMA bouts. That’s one of the challenges Keshtov faces, he said, is convincing matchmakers like the UFC’s Joe Silva that his fighters are worth taking a look at.

As if that weren’t enough of an obstacle, there’s also the travel visa situation, which has only gotten tougher after political upheaval in nearby Ukraine and the Crimean peninsula.

“It’s really getting tougher to get those guys over here,” said AKA’s Mendez, who noted that Nurmagomedov is due to begin a training camp in San Jose soon. “Especially lately, it’s getting really, really tough.”

It doesn’t seem to faze Keshtov or K Dojo, however. Importing fighters from the North Caucasus region remains as much a passion as it is a vision for him, and the success those fighters have had in the big leagues of MMA so far suggests he might be on to something.

“I knew this could happen,” Keshtov said. “For us, MMA was like, we have an opportunity to do this for a living? Hell yeah. That’s our middle name. Now, back there, MMA has taken over. You’re going to see a lot more of us.”

(Pictured: Khabib Nurmagomedov and Adlan Amagov)