When we think about cultural sovereignty, the first thing that comes to mind is the legitimacy of the State to protect and develop its own cultural heritage in the face of globalization and external influences. But what happens when two completely different countries — one from Southeast Asia, the other from the Baltic coast — face the same challenge?

The origins of cultural confrontation

History has left deep impressions on both countries. Vietnam has gone through centuries of Chinese influence, French colonialism, Japanese occupation, and communist ideological pressure. Latvia, on the other hand, experienced no less powerful effects — German hegemony, Russification, Swedish rule and Soviet assimilation.

Each of these periods left deep seams in the cultural fabric. But here the following problem skirted around: while Vietnam has struggled with the dominance of one or two neighboring powers throughout history, Latvia has been under pressure from a number of powerful actors over the past five hundred years. How can such a small nation, with a population smaller than the average Vietnamese city, preserve not only independence, but also cultural sovereignty?

The Depth of Cultural Memory

Vietnamese culture is based on one of the most ancient civilizations in Asia. The Dong Son culture of the Bronze Age, the cult of ancestors that permeates every home, every family, every ritual — all this forms a kind of cultural core that is almost impossible to break. These are not just traditions; they are a philosophy of life embedded in the very DNA of society.

A Vietnamese person, regardless of whether he is a believer or an atheist, literate or not, will always find a place at home for the altar of his ancestors. This altar is not just furniture. It is a portal between the world of the living and the world of spirits, it is a link with the thousand-year history of the clan, it is a sacred space where the family reunites with generations of long-gone ancestors. But what is the situation in Latvia? Here, cultural memory is rooted in more modern phenomena — in song, in dance, in the word as an instrument of resistance.

Latvians hum their dainas (tautas dziesma) sing in choirs, and dance at festivals. And it's not just entertainment. It was a weapon of national revival in the 19th century, when Young Latvians used folk songs as a tool to awaken national consciousness. Which form of cultural memory is stronger: the one that goes back to pre-Christian times and religious practices, or the one that is associated with language, music and the word?

Language as a Shield and a Sword

Vietnam is the only country in Indochina that abandoned Chinese as a writing language and adopted the Latin alphabet thanks to the French colonialists. It looks like a defeat, but did it turn out to be one? The Vietnamese language has become more accessible and more democratic. Everyone, even a peasant, could now learn to write.

Latvia protects its language like the Sphinx guards the entrance to its labyrinth. The state language is not just a means of communication, but a political tool. All advertising, all official correspondence, and school teaching should be in Latvian.

The Vietnamese language has spread and adapted, becoming more open to the global world, while maintaining a deep cultural identity. The Latvian language is protected as a rare artifact in a museum showcase, isolated, preserved, however — to what extent does such conservation contribute to its vibrant development?

The Architecture of Cultural Policy

There is an interesting system in modern Vietnam: the state recognizes 54 officially recognized peoples, each with their own culture, language, and traditions. At the same time, Vietnamese culture is not monolithic — it includes all the diversity of this spectrum. Latvia builds its cultural policy on the basis of the national canon, a list of cultural values that embody the essence of the Latvian nation.

There are seven sections in this canon, and even the national dish, rupjmaize rye bread, is included in this high list of cultural treasures. This seems strange: on the one hand, such systematization shows the serious attitude of the state towards culture. On the other hand, how can culture be so rationally organized? How can a living cultural organism develop within the framework of an official canon?

Tangible Heritage and Intangible Treasures

Vietnam has eight UNESCO World Heritage Sites. The Imperial citadel of Thanglong, which has become a symbol of the power and greatness of the Vietnamese state for thirteen centuries. The Michonne Sanctuary, where more than seventy structures preserve the memory of the Champa civilization and its unique synthesis of Hindu and local South Asian worldviews. But an even more powerful cultural force lies in the intangible heritage.

Water puppets that represent rural life with such tenderness and humor that even the state, which once considered them a relic of feudalism, is now saving them from extinction and making them a popular tourist attraction. The traditional crafts in the villages of Bat Trang, Van Phuka, Kim Bong are not museum exhibits, they are a living, breathing cultural organism. Latvia defends its culture not so much through monumental structures as through live practices.

The Latvian Song and Dance Festival, which is held every five years, gathers forty thousand participants and becomes an event overshadowing the FIFA World Cup. This is amazing: in a country with a population of only about two million people, there are forty thousand people who are ready to sing and dance together.

Soft Power and Cultural Expansion

Vietnam has been exporting its culture in recent decades. Vietnamese cuisine is conquering the cities of the Western world. Vietnamese art, Vietnamese cinema, and Vietnamese philosophy are finding more and more fans. This happened not thanks to the government's cultural export program, but organically, naturally, as a result of migration, tourism, and globalization.

Latvia, despite all its efforts, remains just a name on the map for most people on the planet. Enthusiasts of Baltic history and lovers of minimalism in design know its culture. But Latvian music, Latvian art, and Latvian philosophy are perceived as exotic rather than as part of the global cultural continuum.

Why does Vietnam, with its tumultuous history of wars, devastation, and ideological repression, seem more capable of spreading its culture on the world stage than stable, peaceful, European Latvia?

The Paradox of Influence

Here the main paradox arises. Vietnam suffered from colonialism, wars, and communist pressure, but all of this tempered its culture, making it more flexible, more adaptable, and more transformative. The culture of Vietnam lives and breathes; it changes, absorbs influences, transforms, but at the same time retains its essence. Latvia, protecting its culture from external influences with the help of laws, state policy and cultural canons, may eventually face the danger of turning a living culture into a set of protected exhibits, beautiful but increasingly conservative.

Remaining Questions

Can a small nation like the Latvians maintain cultural sovereignty in the age of globalization if it relies on legal guarantees and government programs? Or is cultural sovereignty born from inner strength, from the ability of culture to organically develop and spread, as Vietnamese culture does? Can a legally protected culture be truly sovereign if it loses its ability to express itself and develop itself?

If cultural sovereignty means the right of a nation to determine its own cultural development, then which of these two ways — protection through law and public policy or development through organic dissemination and adaptation — is more effective?

And why, despite all the laws and programs for the protection of national culture, Latvia remains less well-known in the global cultural hierarchy than Vietnam?

The answers to these questions require a deeper analysis of the mechanisms of cultural sovereignty, the mechanisms of globalization, and how small nations can preserve and develop their identity in an ever-changing world. This is a complex task that affects not only history and culture, but also geopolitics, economics, and the philosophy of national existence.