Caodaism’s journey since the 1920s reads like a tapestry woven with resilience and reinvention. Born in Tây Ninh under spirit messages that fused Confucian ethics, Buddhist compassion, Taoist harmony and Christian mysticism, it quickly attracted a vibrant following across southern Vietnam. By the 1930s, grand temples were sprouting, mounted parades drew thousands, and even political clout seemed within reach.

The upheavals of mid-century Vietnam tested the faith’s mettle. During the First Indochina War and later in the Republic of Vietnam era, Caodaists found themselves both peacemakers and political players, organizing militias and relief efforts. When Saigon fell in 1975, many temples fell silent. Under tight religious controls, clergy went underground, rituals were pared back, and open assembly became a careful dance “under the radar.”

Economic reforms of Đổi Mới in the late 1980s ushered in thawed restrictions. Authorities gradually granted official status to Caodai congregations, leading to painstaking restoration of the Holy See in Tây Ninh and reopening of dozens of provincial chapels. Pilgrims now converge again on colorful towers, incense wafting through ornate halls, while freshmen devotees snap selfies beside dragon-adorned columns.

Across the globe, Vietnamese migrants carried Caodaism to California, France, Australia and Canada. These diaspora communities blend traditional noon ceremonies with Facebook livestreams and Zoom scripture study. Youth groups, more tech-savvy than ever, translate sacred texts into English and promote cultural festivals on Instagram, ensuring the faith stays in step with a wired world.

Recent UNESCO-supported heritage programs have spotlighted Caodaist architecture and ritual, acknowledging its place in Vietnam’s intangible cultural legacy. In urban centers, interfaith dialogues sometimes include Caodaist representatives, sharing perspectives on environmental stewardship and social welfare.

Decades on, Caodaism still bears the torch of spiritual syncretism. Evolving under political storms, embracing digital horizons and nurturing a global flock, it remains a living testament to how a modern faith can adapt without losing its original spark.