THE DAILY BEAST Jay
Michaelson 07.02.15
Is yoga a spiritual practice
or physical exercise? Depends on who you ask. But some Russians
believe it's a cult and, taking the lead of Vladimir Putin’s
revanchist movement, have outlawed it.
The history of yoga is more
tangled than the lotus position. This week, it’s taken yet another
bizarre twist, as one Russian cities has just banned the practice
because it has ++“an
occult character.”++[[]]
American yoga practitioners—over 8 percent of the U.S. population,
according to a
2012 report—are
probably laughing in their Lululemons, but in fact, the spiritual
and physical aspects of yoga have been vying for supremacy for over
a century. And the battle has only intensified of late.
“Yoga” is a
Sanskrit word that basically means “spiritual practice.”
Perhaps the most central text in yogic literature, the
4th-century Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, sets forth eight
“limbs” of yoga, referring not to arms and legs but to a holistic
lifestyle of physical and spiritual purification. These begin with
ethics and rigorous spiritual discipline (neither of which get much
play at secular yoga studios), continue with the well-known yoga
poses and breathing exercises, and culminate in four successive
stages of meditation.
At the most refined
levels of meditation, the yogi cultivates Samadhi, an
intense concentration and absorption of the mind. Buddhists
cultivate these states as aids to meditation (as it happens, I am a
teacher of this particular form of practice), but for Hindu yogis,
they are seen as ecstatic union with the Divine. And indeed,
Samadhi is a deeply profound experience.
It’s not, however,
the same as washboard abs. Neither is ishvara pranidhana,
the surrender to God (part of step two). What happened?
Around the turn of
the 20th century—as described by Mark Singleton,
Stephanie Syman, and other historians—yoga encountered the West,
both in America and in an anti-colonial resistance to Great
Britain. In the United States, Americans grew fascinated with
Indian contortionists on the one hand (thanks in large part to the
spread of photography) and with the new trend of gymnastics on the
other. This had the effect of enlarging the importance of postures,
twists, and bends, and diminishing that of rigorous diet, study of
sacred scriptures, and mystical states.
It also changed
yoga postures to accord with then-contemporary understandings of
physical exercise. Yoga poses as we know them today owe as much to
the YMCA as to Patanjali—and indeed, even Patanjali’s priority over
other Hindu sacred texts was, in part, a result of these
evolutions.
In India,
meanwhile, yoga became known as an indigenous form of physical
exercise. The British had deemed Indians weak, and suitable for
domination. Yoga-as-exercise was one response: here was a
distinctively Indian form of physicality far superior to that found
in the West. Yoga was a source of Indian nationalist pride in the
shadow of colonialism.
Thus, what was once
one eighth (or, with breathing exercises, one quarter) of a
rigorous spiritual discipline became, in India and the West, a kind
of oriental exercise. (“Oriental” meaning the “East” as seen
through a Western prism: exotic, mysterious, and
‘Other.’)
But the spiritual
and physical are not separate in yoga, and the religio-spiritual
elements never entirely disappeared. In postwar America, yoga’s
fusion of body and soul captivated a new generation of spiritual
seekers. The great yoga gurus—Indra Devi, Satchidananda—were
spiritual teachers first and foremost. Even the pioneer of
“body-based” (mostly secular) yoga, B.K.S. Iyengar, was often
regarded as a sage.
Yet since the
1970s, in particular, the physical dimensions of yoga have
predominated, much to the chagrin of spiritual yoga practitioners.
Even where spirituality remains a focus, it is often a
universalized New Age spirituality, rather than the rigorous
discipline advocated in the sutras. Other times, it’s just an
exercise routine.
For example, in
2009, Michelle Obama included yoga in the White House Easter Egg
hunt celebrations,
saying, “Our goal today is just to have fun. We want to focus
on activity, healthy eating. We’ve got yoga, we’ve got dancing,
we’ve got story-telling, we’ve got Easter-egg
decorating.”
That’s a far cry
from Hindu religious discipline, and it’s how the vast majority of
Americans encounter yoga today: as fun exercise, part of healthy
living.
And that’s why
yoga’s opponents look ridiculous, whether they’re Russian officials
banning it from the town of Nizhnevartovsk or evangelicals
suing a California school district to keep it out of public
school. To most American yoga practitioners, that’s like getting
offended by sit-ups.
Who’s right? Well,
it depends on how you look at it. The Russians and the evangelicals
are clearly correct that yoga originated as part of a Hindu
spiritual discipline. (The word “Hindu,” by the way, is itself a
relatively recent, Western-originated term.) On the other hand, any
Hindu specificity has long been drained out of secular yoga, just
as any Buddhist specificity has been drained out of the secular
mindfulness taught in the offices of Twitter.
In India,
meanwhile, yoga’s history has twisted yet again.
Under the
nationalist leadership of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, yoga
has become – as it was a century ago – an activity of Indian
patriotism. Hilariously, as reported by the
New York Times, Modi’s penchant for yoga has made it a
mandatory practice among Indian bureaucrats, many of whom have
spent decades behind desks, and look like it.
And just ten days
ago, on June 21, Modi joined over 35,000 participants in the
largest yoga session in history (yes, officially documented as a
world record), part of “International Yoga Day,” a U.N.-sanctioned
event which included observance around the world.
The backlash has
already set in. Modi’s yoga is spiritual and universalist—Yoga Day
is “the beginning of a new age through which we will achieve
greater heights of peace,” he said—but also particularist. Sanskrit
chants are included – and not just ‘Om’ either. Muslims have argued
that the Sun Salutation violates their religion. Hindu Nationalists
have incorporated yoga into their military drills.
The net result is a
yoga that looks a lot like Indian yoga did 100 years ago: a
religiously-inflected, nationalistically-oriented blend of wellness
and spirituality.
It’s not known
whether the ban in Nizhnevartovsk is a direct response to these
trends. Given the
close ties between U.S. evangelicals and Russian conservatives,
their inspiration may have been American, rather than Indian.
Either way, this is part of the widespread revanchist movement in
Russia, led by President Putin, which seeks to return to
conservative values, including an ultra-conservative version of
Russian Orthodox Christianity. Yoga-as-occult is a small part of
that.
Still, the Russian
yoga paroxysm is not entirely unwarranted. There are at least four
meanings of the word “yoga”: an ancient Hindu spiritual discipline,
a Victorian-influenced health regime, a New Age spiritual-physical
activity, and an Indian nationalist exercise. At least three of
those might offend a conservative Christian, whether in Siberia or
San Diego.
Most of all, this
controversy reflects the limitations of Western categories like
‘spiritual’ and ‘physical’ to understand non-Western phenomena, and
the remarkable semiotic drift that yoga has enjoyed over the last
150 years. As with meditation, it is
remarkable that an ascetic practice of a 4th-century
Hindu sage is now taught at Crunch.
Even if not in
Nizhnevartovsk.