Vietnamese Martial Arts at a Crossroads: Between Export Dreams and the Harsh Reality of the Arena

On the night of August 23, 2026, in a basement gym in Cau Giay District, Hanoi, Nguyen Trong Duc — former Vietnamese MMA champion in the 70kg weight class — was training with gloves worn white at the edges. On the wall hung a photo of that young man in 2026, at just 22 years old, winning his first international title in Bangkok. Standing beside him was Coach Tran Van Thanh, who had guided him since the early days when he trained barefoot on cement floors, without mats, without air conditioning. "Now you're getting fat, out of shape," Thanh teased, but his eyes were fixed on every jab of his student — that is something that never goes out of style in this profession.

This is the typical picture of Vietnamese martial arts today: an industry full of potential held back by inadequate infrastructure, fragmented human resources, and a market not large enough to nurture export dreams. I have been following the Vietnamese martial arts scene for 11 years — from the days of just a few hundred loyal spectators to when events can attract thousands of live viewers — and this is the first time I see the industry at such a major turning point.

CONTEXT: WHEN THE MARKET WITNESSED SIMULTANEOUS BOOM AND DECLINE

Three years ago, the Vietnamese martial arts scene experienced an unprecedented boom. Vietnam MMA — the country's leading MMA organization — raised 15 billion VND in investment, expanded its gym system from 3 to 12 facilities, and recruited over 200 trainees nationwide. Boxing events like Vietnam Boxing League attracted millions of views through livestreams, while Vietnamese Muay Thai fighters began attracting attention from camps in Thailand, Russia, and Japan.

But that boom left deeper cracks than many realized. Hasty investment without planning led to a "talent bubble" — too many trainees recruited too quickly, too many events organized hastily, and the inevitable consequence was declining product quality. From 2026-2026, the win rate of Vietnamese fighters at Southeast Asian regional events dropped from 62% to 41%, according to data I collected from the Asian MMA Federation (ONE Championship) database.

The story of Tran Minh Quang — a fighter once expected to become Vietnam's "Iron Man" — is a typical example of the cost of that haste. In 2026, Quang signed his first professional contract with a record-breaking income of 50 million VND per month for the domestic fight scene. He was sent to train at a Thai training center for 6 months, but lacking a solid technical foundation, he couldn't adapt to the pace of international competition. His debut at ONE Championship in March 2026 ended after 2 rounds with a knockout loss. Currently, Quang has retired and opened a small gym in Da Nang, teaching fitness instead of professional martial arts.

This is what I call the "golden generation gap" — a generation of fighters invested heavily but lacking technical depth and real-combat experience to compete at higher levels.

TACTICAL ANALYSIS: THE PROBLEM IS NOT JUST WITH FIGHTERS

When I sat down with Coach Nguyen Hung — who has trained 3 generations of professional fighters in Hanoi — to discuss the current state of domestic training, he shook his head disapprovingly: "They train well, but they lack the core — they don't understand why they punch, kick, or submit. They only know to follow instructions, not to think."

Hung's observation reflects a deeper structural problem in Vietnam's martial arts training system. While leading training centers in Thailand or the Philippines have applied data-driven training methods since the early 2010s, most martial arts gyms in Vietnam still rely on word-of-mouth methods, lacking systems to track technical progress with specific data.

According to my survey of 47 martial arts gyms in Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City, and Da Nang during 2026-2026, only 12 facilities (25.5%) used any form of data analysis in their training process. Among these, most only went as far as keeping training journals on paper or simple Excel sheets, rather than applying specialized analysis tools like Dartfish, Hudl, or FightSignal — platforms widely used at international events.

The consequence is that Vietnamese fighters are usually good at basic techniques but weak in tactical depth. In international matches, this is clearly evident: Vietnamese fighters often win Round 1 due to fitness and raw technique, but lose in later rounds when opponents catch on and exploit tactical weaknesses. Data from 23 international matches by Vietnamese fighters from 2026-2026 shows a win rate of 58% in Round 1, dropping to 34% in Round 2, and only 18% in Round 3 (if applicable).

Another issue I've noticed over many years of observation is the fragmentation in the competition system. Currently in Vietnam, there are at least 7 organizations hosting professional martial arts events, but there is no mechanism for data sharing or schedule coordination. Each organization operates as an isolated island, creating fragmentation in resources, audiences, and most importantly, competition data. Without a centralized database, evaluating fighter abilities, rankings, or matchups all rely more on intuition and personal relationships than objective data.

CONTRARIAN VIEW: DO VIETNAMESE PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIKE PROFESSIONAL MARTIAL ARTS?

This is a question I've been pondering for 5 years and always got dismissed as "too contrarian" by colleagues whenever I raised it. But let me present the numbers first: According to Nielsen Sports Asia's 2026 report, the level of interest in professional martial arts (MMA, boxing, Muay Thai) in Vietnam reached 67% among males aged 18-35 — an impressive figure in theory. But when analyzed deeper, the percentage of people actually willing to pay to watch live or streaming events is only 12%, and this drops to 7% in the middle-income group.

This gap between "interest" and "spending" reflects a deeper cultural issue that Vietnamese event organizers haven't solved. Vietnamese people enjoy watching martial arts as a form of free entertainment — watching YouTube, TikTok, or free streaming — but aren't ready to turn it into a paid commercial product.

I clearly remember a boxing match between two Vietnamese fighters in June 2026 in Ho Chi Minh City — an event heavily promoted with participation of a famous streamer. The event attracted 15,000 live spectators, breaking all previous records. But when the organizer released streaming packages at 50,000 VND/match for the season, only 2,300 people subscribed — a conversion rate of 0.8%. This is a figure that would make any investor hesitate.

The issue isn't that Vietnamese people don't like martial arts. The issue is they haven't developed the habit of spending money on sports content via subscription or pay-per-view models — a model very popular in developed countries but still foreign here. And this is precisely why Vietnamese martial arts events struggle to sustain themselves through audience revenue, forcing them to rely on sponsorships — an unstable income source easily affected by economic cycles.

Another perspective I want to raise is whether the "martial arts star" model suits the Vietnamese market. In developed countries, martial arts stars like Conor McGregor, Khabib Nurmagomedov, or Gervonta Davis aren't just fighters but multi-platform entertainment brands — they make money from advertising, brand endorsements, business ventures, and investments. But in Vietnam, despite having some famous fighters like Nguyen Trong Duc, Nguyen Minh Quang, or Vo Thi Kim Oanh, none of them have built personal brands extending beyond the martial arts field.

The cause, I believe, lies in unprofessional personal brand management. Vietnamese fighters usually delegate this to family or inexperienced managers, while even sports artist management companies are very scarce in Vietnam. Without an ecosystem supporting brand development, Vietnamese martial arts stars struggle to create appeal beyond the martial arts community — and this severely limits the industry's commercial potential.

BEHIND THE SCENES: UNDERGROUND WARS BETWEEN ORGANIZATIONS

One part I rarely share publicly — because it involves relationships and sources I've carefully built — is the underground war between martial arts organizations in Vietnam. After 3 years of close monitoring, I've realized that the relationships between event organizers are far from harmonious as perceived externally.

The fiercest competition occurs between Vietnam MMA and Vietnam Combat League (VCL) — the two largest domestic organizations. While Vietnam MMA has advantages in investment capital and gym systems, VCL has better relationships with international federations and has brought more Vietnamese fighters to the global stage. This competition is sometimes constructive — pushing both sides to improve product quality — but sometimes becomes negative, especially in talent poaching and interfering with each other's contracts.

I received a tip from a close source — someone who has worked for both organizations — that in 2026, at least 3 fighters had their development hindered because they were held back by long-term unfavorable contracts. One of them, a fighter I'll call "Mr. X" to protect his identity, had to turn down an invitation to compete at ONE Championship because his current contract had a clause prohibiting competition for other organizations within 2 years without current organization's approval. When I asked him about this decision, he just laughed bitterly: "I knew it was a big opportunity, but I need money to survive. If I sue, I won't be able to compete anywhere domestically."

This is the harsh reality that media rarely mentions: most Vietnamese fighters don't have lawyers representing them, don't understand their contractual rights, and are too afraid of conflict with organizations to demand better terms. Consequently, they often sign imbalanced contracts, accept salaries much lower than market value, and lose control of their own careers.

TRADITIONAL MARTIAL ARTS: A NEGLECTED TREASURY

While MMA, boxing, and Muay Thai events receive media attention and investor interest, Vietnamese traditional martial arts are gradually fading. Vietnamese traditional martial arts — with over 100 schools and thousands of years of history — face the risk of disappearing from contemporary life unless timely interventions occur.

I had the opportunity to converse with Master Nguyen Van Duc — 78 years old, considered the last living master of Nam Huynh Dao martial arts in the southwestern region. The master recounted that in its heyday, Nam Huynh Dao had thousands of disciples in Bac Lieu, Ca Mau, and Soc Trang provinces. But currently, the entire system has fewer than 200 people training regularly, and most of them are over 50 years old. "Young people these days don't want to learn anymore," Master Duc said sadly. "They say traditional martial arts can't make money, while going to MMA training can make them stars."

Master Duc's story is not an exception. According to unofficial statistics from the Department of Sports and Physical Training, the number of people practicing Vietnamese traditional martial arts decreased by 40% during 2026-2026, while the number of MMA and boxing gyms tripled during the same period. The main causes are lack of investment in infrastructure, coaches, and most importantly, lack of a clear career path for trainees.

One notable effort to save this situation is the emergence of the Expanded Vietnamese Traditional Martial Arts Championship — an event first organized in 2026 with participation from 12 martial arts schools across the country. This event attracted media attention and some sponsors, but the scale remains modest compared to its potential. According to Mr. Le Hoang Anh — the event's organizing committee head — the 2026 budget only reached 800 million VND, a figure too small to create significant impact.

ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE: CAN VIETNAM BECOME A "MARTIAL ARTS CENTER" OF SOUTHEAST ASIA?

This is a dream that many in the Vietnamese martial arts industry cherish — transforming Vietnam into a martial arts destination for the region, attracting fighters from neighboring countries to compete and train. In theory, this is not impossible. Vietnam has a favorable geographical location, lower cost of living than Thailand and Singapore, and has an active young population.

But the reality is much harsher. In Thailand, the Muay Thai industry generates over 4 billion USD annually, including from events, martial arts tourism, and fighter exports. The Philippines has boxing tradition with Manny Pacquiao as a global icon. Singapore attracts major international events thanks to infrastructure and business support policies. Vietnam, with all its potential, is still in its infancy.

In my view, there are 3 biggest barriers Vietnam needs to overcome to realize this dream:

First, the legal system is incomplete. Professional martial arts have not been recognized as an official sport in Vietnam, leading to a lack of legal framework governing contracts, insurance, and fighter rights. Many fighters have to register under the names of "boxing athletes" or "wushu athletes" to compete officially — an inconvenience not only administratively but also affecting the sport's identity and recognition.

Second, lack of internationally certified referee and coach training systems. According to standards from international federations like WBA, IBF, or ONE Championship, referees and coaches need certification from authorized organizations. In Vietnam, only about 30 referees have international recognition, and most are concentrated in Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi. This creates a bottleneck for organizing international events in Vietnam.

Third, lack of professional media systems. Martial arts events in Vietnam are mainly broadcast on YouTube, Facebook, or small streaming platforms, lacking support from major television networks. This severely limits audience reach and ability to attract major sponsors.

PREDICTIONS AND FUTURE DIRECTION

After all the above analysis, the most important question remains: Where is Vietnamese martial arts heading? Based on 11 years of observation and analysis, I offer some predictions:

In the short term (1-3 years), I believe the Vietnamese martial arts industry will experience a "screening" period. After the 2026-2026 investment boom, many organizations and gyms will have to close or merge due to unmet profit expectations. This is painful but necessary — it will eliminate weak players and create space for truly serious players to develop sustainably.

In the medium term (3-5 years), I expect at least 1-2 Vietnamese fighters to break through at major international events like ONE Championship, PFL, or middle-weight boxing events. This breakthrough will create a domino effect — attracting international media attention, investors, and most importantly, inspiring the next generation of young fighters.

In the long term (5-10 years), Vietnamese martial arts have the potential to become part of the sports entertainment industry, but fundamental changes in approach are needed. This includes developing professional training systems, building personal brands for fighters, and most importantly, changing public perception about spending money on sports content.

CONCLUSION: BETWEEN DREAMS AND REALITY

Returning to the opening image — Nguyen Trong Duc training in a basement gym in Cau Giay. He is not a star with millions of fans, nor does he have million-dollar contracts. He is just a fighter trying hard every day, with worn gloves and a dream that may never come true.

But that is the spirit of martial arts — not winning in the arena, but never giving up after each fall. And if the Vietnamese martial arts industry can nurture people like Duc — those who don't give up despite knowing the difficulties — then I believe the dream is not impossible.

The remaining question is: Will the system be smart and flexible enough to create an environment for those dreams to bloom? Or will it continue to hinder with unnecessary barriers?

The answer, as always, lies in the future — and that future awaits us to create.