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Yoga, Brief History of an Idea - David White
Over the past decades, yoga has become part of the Zeitgeist of affluent west-
ern societies, drawing housewives and hipsters, New Agers and the old-aged,
and body culture and corporate culture into a multibillion-dollar synergy. Like
every Indian cultural artifact that it has embraced, the West views Indian yoga
as an ancient, unchanging tradition, based on revelations received by the Vedic
sages who, seated in the lotus pose, were the Indian forerunners of the flat-
tummied yoga babes who grace the covers of such glossy periodicals as the
In the United States in particular, yoga has become a commodity. Statistics
show that about 16 million Americans practice yoga every year. For most peo-
ple, this means going to a yoga center with yoga mats, yoga clothes, and yoga
accessories, and practicing in groups under the guidance of a yoga teacher or
trainer. Here, yoga practice comprises a regimen of postures (āsanas)—some-
times held for long periods of time, sometimes executed in rapid sequence--
often together with techniques of breath control (prānāyāma). Yoga entrepre-
neurs have branded their own styles of practice, from Bikram’s superheated
workout rooms to studios that have begun offering “doga,” practicing yoga
together with one’s dog. They have opened franchises, invented logos, pack-
aged their practice regimens under Sanskrit names, and marketed a lifestyle
that fuses yoga with leisure travel, healing spas, and seminars on eastern spiri-
tuality. “Yoga celebrities” have become a part of our vocabulary, and with ce-
lebrity has come the usual entourage of publicists, business managers, and
1
In this introduction, names in [square brackets] refer to contributions found in this volume,
while references in (parentheses) refer to works found in Works Cited at the end of this
chapter.
2 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
lawyers. Yoga is mainstream. Arguably India’s greatest cultural export, yoga has
morphed into a mass culture phenomenon.
Many yoga celebrities, as well as a strong percentage of less celebrated yoga
teachers, combine their training with teachings on healing, spirituality, medi-
tation, and India’s ancient yoga traditions, the Sanskrit-language Yoga Sūtra
(YS) in particular. Here, they are following the lead of the earliest yoga entre-
preneurs, the Indian gurus who brought the gospel of yoga to western shores
in the wake of Swami Vivekananda’s storied successes of the late nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries.
But what were India’s ancient yoga traditions, and what relationship do
they have to the modern postural yoga (Singleton 2010) that people are prac-
ticing across the world today? In fact, the yoga that is taught and practiced
today has very little in common with the yoga of the YS and other ancient
yoga treatises. Nearly all of our popular assumptions about yoga theory date
from the past 150 years, and very few modern-day practices date from before
the twelfth century. This is not the first time that people have “reinvented”
yoga in their own image. As the contributions to this volume demonstrate,
this is a process that has been ongoing for at least two thousand years. Every
group in every age has created its own version and vision of yoga. One reason
this has been possible is that its semantic field—the range of meanings of the
term “yoga”—is so broad and the concept of yoga so malleable, that it has
been possible to morph it into nearly any practice or process one chooses.
When seeking to define a tradition, it is useful to begin by defining one’s
terms. It is here that problems arise. “Yoga” has a wider range of meanings
than nearly any other word in the entire Sanskrit lexicon. The act of yoking an
animal, as well as the yoke itself, is called yoga. In astronomy, a conjunction of
planets or stars, as well as a constellation, is called yoga. When one mixes to-
gether various substances, that, too, can be called yoga. The word yoga has also
been employed to denote a device, a recipe, a method, a strategy, a charm, an
incantation, fraud, a trick, an endeavor, a combination, union, an arrangement,
zeal, care, diligence, industriousness, discipline, use, application, contact, a sum
total, and the Work of alchemists. But this is by no means an exhaustive list.
So, for example, the ninth-century Netra Tantra, a Hindu scripture from
Kashmir, describes what it calls subtle yoga and transcendent yoga. Subtle
yoga is nothing more or less than a body of techniques for entering into and
taking over other people’s bodies. As for transcendental yoga, this is a process
that involves superhuman female predators, called yoginīs, who eat people! By
eating people, this text says, the yoginīs consume the sins of the body that
would otherwise bind them to suffering rebirth, and so allow for the “union”
(yoga) of their purified souls with the supreme god Śiva, a union that is tanta-
I ntr o d u c ti o n 3
mount to salvation (White 2009: 162–63). In this ninth-century source, there
is no discussion whatsoever of postures or breath control, the prime markers
of yoga as we know it today. More troubling still, the third- to fourth-century
CE YS and Bhagavad Gītā (BhG), the two most widely cited textual sources
for “classical yoga,” virtually ignore postures and breath control, each devoting
a total of fewer than ten verses to these practices. They are far more concerned
with the issue of human salvation, realized through the theory and practice of
meditation (dhyāna) in the YS [Larson] and through concentration on the
god Krsna in the BhG [Malinar].
Indian Foundations of Yoga Theory and Practice
Clearly something is missing here. There is a gap between the ancient, “classi-
cal” yoga tradition and yoga as we know it. In order to understand the discon-
nect between then and now, we would do well to go back to the earliest uses of
the term yoga, which are found in texts far more ancient than the YS or BhG.
Here I am referring to India’s earliest scriptures, the Vedas. In the circa fif-
teenth-century BCE Rg Veda, yoga meant, before all else, the yoke one placed
on a draft animal—a bullock or warhorse—to yoke it to a plow or chariot. The
resemblance of these terms is not fortuitous: the Sanskrit “yoga” is a cognate of
the English “yoke,” because Sanskrit and English both belong to the Indo-
European language family (which is why the Sanskrit mātr resembles the Eng-
lish “mother,” sveda looks like “sweat,” udara—“belly” in Sanskrit—looks like
“udder,” and so forth). In the same scripture, we see the term’s meaning ex-
panded through metonymy, with “yoga” being applied to the entire conveyance
or “rig” of a war chariot: to the yoke itself, the team of horses or bullocks, and
the chariot itself with its many straps and harnesses. And, because such chariots
were only hitched up (yukta) in times of war, an important Vedic usage of the
term yoga was “wartime,” in contrast to ksema, “peacetime.”
The Vedic reading of yoga as one’s war chariot or rig came to be incorpo-
rated into the warrior ideology of ancient India. In the Mahābhārata, India’s
200 BCE–400 CE “national epic,” we read the earliest narrative accounts of
the battlefield apotheosis of heroic chariot warriors. This was, like the Greek
Iliad, an epic of battle, and so it was appropriate that the glorification of a
warrior who died fighting his enemies be showcased here. What is interesting,
for the purposes of the history of the term yoga, is that in these narratives, the
warrior who knew he was about to die was said to become yoga-yukta, literally
“yoked to yoga,” with “yoga” once again meaning a chariot. This time, however,
it was not the warrior’s own chariot that carried him up to the highest heaven,
4 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
reserved for gods and heroes alone. Rather, it was a celestial “yoga,” a divine
chariot, that carried him upward in a burst of light to and through the sun,
and on to the heaven of gods and heroes.
Warriors were not the sole individuals of the Vedic age to have chariots
called “yogas.” The gods, too, were said to shuttle across heaven, and between
earth and heaven on yogas. Furthermore, the Vedic priests who sang the Vedic
hymns related their practice to the yoga of the warrior aristocracy who were
their patrons. In their hymns, they describe themselves as “yoking” their minds
to poetic inspiration and so journeying—if only with their mind’s eye or cog-
nitive apparatus—across the metaphorical distance that separated the world
of the gods from the words of their hymns. A striking image of their poetic
journeys is found in a verse from a late Vedic hymn, in which the poet-priests
describe themselves as “hitched up” (yukta) and standing on their chariot
shafts as they sally forth on a vision quest across the universe.
The earliest extant systematic account of yoga and a bridge from the earlier
Vedic uses of the term is found in the Hindu Kathaka Upanisad (KU), a scrip-
ture dating from about the third century BCE. Here, the god of Death reveals
what is termed the “entire yoga regimen” to a young ascetic named Naciketas.
In the course of his teaching, Death compares the relationship between the
self, body, intellect, and so forth to the relationship between a rider, his chariot,
charioteer, etc. (KU 3.3–9), a comparison which approximates that made in
Plato’s Phaedrus. Three elements of this text set the agenda for much of what
constitutes yoga in the centuries that follow. First, it introduces a sort of yogic
physiology, calling the body a “fort with eleven gates” and evoking “a person
the size of a thumb” who, dwelling within, is worshiped by all the gods (KU
4.12; 5.1, 3). Second, it identifies the individual person within with the univer-
sal Person (purusa) or absolute Being (brahman), asserting that this is what
sustains life (KU 5.5, 8–10). Third, it describes the hierarchy of mind-body
constituents—the senses, mind, intellect, etc.—that comprise the founda-
tional categories of Sāmkhya philosophy, whose metaphysical system grounds
the yoga of the YS, BhG, and other texts and schools (KU 3.10–11; 6.7–8).
Because these categories were hierarchically ordered, the realization of higher
states of consciousness was, in this early context, tantamount to an ascension
through levels of outer space, and so we also find in this and other early Upa-
nisads the concept of yoga as a technique for “inner” and “outer” ascent. These
same sources also introduce the use of acoustic spells or formulas (mantras),
the most prominent among these being the syllable OM, the acoustic form of
the supreme brahman. In the following centuries, mantras would become pro-
gressively incorporated into yogic theory and practice, in the medieval Hindu,
Buddhist, and Jain Tantras, as well as the Yoga Upanisads.
I ntr o d u c ti o n 5
Following this circa third-century BCE watershed, textual references to
yoga multiply rapidly in Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist sources, reaching a critical
mass some seven hundred to one thousand years later. It is during this initial
burst that most of the perennial principles of yoga theory—as well as many
elements of yoga practice—were originally formulated. Toward the latter end
of this period, one sees the emergence of the earliest yoga systems, in the YS;
the third- to fourth-century scriptures of the Buddhist Yogācāra school and
fourth- to fifth-century Visuddhimagga of Buddhaghosa; and the Yogadrsti-
samuccaya of the eighth-century Jain author Haribhadra. Although the YS
may be slightly later than the Yogācāra canon, this tightly ordered series of
aphorisms is so remarkable and comprehensive for its time that it is often re-
ferred to as “classical yoga.” It is also known as pātañjala yoga (“Patañjalian
yoga”), in recognition of its putative compiler, Patañjali.
The Yogācāra (“Yoga Practice”) school of Mahāyāna Buddhism was the
earliest Buddhist tradition to employ the term yoga to denote its philosophi-
cal system. Also known as Vijñānavāda (“Doctrine of Consciousness”), Yogā-
cāra offered a systematic analysis of perception and consciousness together
with a set of meditative disciplines designed to eliminate the cognitive errors
that prevented liberation from suffering existence. Yogācāra’s eight-stage med-
itative practice itself was not termed yoga, however, but rather “calmness”
(śamatha) or “insight” (vipaśyanā) meditation (Cleary 1995). The Yogācāra
analysis of consciousness has many points in common with the more or less
coeval YS, and there can be no doubt that cross-pollination occurred across
religious boundaries in matters of yoga (La Vallée Poussin, 1936–1937). The
Yogavāsistha (“Vasistha’s Teachings on Yoga”)—a circa tenth-century Hindu
work from Kashmir that combined analytical and practical teachings on
“yoga” with vivid mythological accounts illustrative of its analysis of con-
sciousness [Chapple]—takes positions similar to those of Yogācāra concern-
ing errors of perception and the human inability to distinguish between our
interpretations of the world and the world itself.
The Jains were the last of the major Indian religious groups to employ the
term yoga to imply anything remotely resembling “classical” formulations of
yoga theory and practice. The earliest Jain uses of the term, found in Umāsvāti’s
fourth- to fifth-century Tattvārthasūtra (6.1–2), the earliest extant systematic
work of Jain philosophy, defined yoga as “activity of the body, speech, and
mind.” As such, yoga was, in early Jain parlance, actually an impediment to
liberation. Here, yoga could only be overcome through its opposite, ayoga
(“non-yoga,” inaction)—that is, through meditation (jhāna; dhyāna), asceti-
cism, and other practices of purification that undo the effects of earlier activ-
ity. The earliest systematic Jain work on yoga, Haribhadra’s circa 750 CE Yoga-
6 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
drstisamuccaya, was strongly influenced by the YS, yet nonetheless retained
much of Umāsvāti’s terminology, even as it referred to observance of the path
as yogācāra (Qvarnström 2003: 131–33).
This is not to say that between the fourth century BCE and the second to
fourth century CE, neither the Buddhists nor the Jains were engaging in
practices that we might today identify as yoga. To the contrary, early Buddhist
sources like the Majjhima Nikāya—the “Middle-length Sayings” attributed
to the Buddha himself—are replete with references to self-mortification and
meditation as practiced by the Jains, which the Buddha condemned and con-
trasted to his own set of four meditations (Bronkhorst 1993: 1–5, 19–24). In
the Anguttara Nikāya (“Gradual Sayings”), another set of teachings attributed
to the Buddha, one finds descriptions of jhāyins (“meditators,” “experiential-
ists”) that closely resemble early Hindu descriptions of practitioners of yoga
(Eliade 2009: 174–75). Their ascetic practices—never termed yoga in these
early sources—were likely innovated within the various itinerant śramana
groups that circulated in the eastern Gangetic basin in the latter half of the
first millennium BCE.
Even as the term yoga began to appear with increasing frequency between
300 BCE and 400 CE, its meaning was far from fixed. It is only in later cen-
turies that a relatively systematic yoga nomenclature became established
among Hindus, Buddhists, and Jains. By the beginning of the fifth century,
however, the core principles of yoga were more or less in place, with most of
what followed being variations on that original core. Here, we would do well
to outline these principles, which have persisted through time and across tra-
ditions for some two thousand years. They may be summarized as follows:
1. Yoga as an analysis of perception and cognition. Yoga is an analysis of the
dysfunctional nature of everyday perception and cognition, which lies at the
root of suffering, the existential conundrum whose solution is the goal of In-
dian philosophy. Once one comprehends the cause(s) of the problem, one can
solve it through philosophical analysis combined with meditative practice.
At bottom, India’s many yoga traditions are soteriologies, doctrines of salva-
tion, concerning the attainment of release from suffering existence and the
cycle of rebirths (samsāra). The problem of suffering existence and the allied
doctrine of cyclic rebirth emerges about five centuries before the beginning of
the common era, in the early Upanisads as well as the original teachings of the
Jain founder Mahāvīra and the Buddhist founder Gautama Buddha. The same
teachings that posit the problem of suffering existence also offer a solution to
the problem, which may be summarized by the word “gnosis” (jñāna or prajñā
in Sanskrit; paññā in Pali). As such, these are also to be counted among the
I ntr o d u c ti o n 7
earliest Indian epistemologies, philosophical theories of what constitutes au-
thentic knowledge. Gnosis—transcendent, immediate, non-conventional
knowledge of ultimate reality, of the reality behind appearances—is the key to
salvation in all of these early soteriologies, as well as in India’s major philo-
sophical schools, many of which developed in the centuries around the begin-
ning of the Common Era. As such, these are gnoseologies, theories of salvation
through knowledge, in which to know the truth (i.e., that in spite of appear-
ances, one is, in fact, not trapped in suffering existence) is to realize it in fact.
The classic example of such a transformation is that of the Buddha: by realiz-
ing the Four Noble Truths, he became the “Awakened” or “Enlightened” One
(Buddha), and so was liberated from future rebirths, realizing the extinction of
suffering (nibbāna; nirvāna) at the end of his life.
In all of these systems, the necessary condition for gnosis is the disengage-
ment of one’s cognitive apparatus from sense impressions and base matter
(including the matter of the body). An important distinguishing characteris-
tic of all Indian philosophical systems is the concept that the mind or mental
capacity (manas, citta) is part of the body: it is the “sixth sense,” which, located
in the heart, is tethered to the senses of hearing, seeing, tasting, touching, and
smelling, as well as their associated bodily organs. What this means is that
Indian philosophy rejects the mind-body distinction. In doing so, however, it
does embrace another distinction. This is the distinction between the mind-
body complex on the one hand, and a higher cognitive apparatus—called
buddhi (“intellect”), antahkarana, vijñāna (both translatable as “conscious-
ness”), etc.—on the other. In these early sources, the term yoga is often used
to designate the theory and practice of disengaging the higher cognitive ap-
paratus from the thrall of matter, the body, and the senses (including mind).
Yoga is a regimen or discipline that trains the cognitive apparatus to perceive
clearly, which leads to true cognition, which in turn leads to salvation, release
from suffering existence. Yoga is not the sole term for this type of training,
however. In early Buddhist and Jain scriptures as well as many early Hindu
sources, the term dhyāna (jhāna in the Pali of early Buddhist teachings, jhāna
in the Jain Ardhamagadhi vernacular), most commonly translated as “medita-
tion,” is far more frequently employed. So it is that Hindu sources like the
BhG and YS, as well as a number of Buddhist Mahāyāna works, frequently
use yoga, dhyāna, and bhāvanā (“cultivation,” “contemplation”) more or less
synonymously, while early Jain and Buddhist texts employ the term dhyāna in
its various spellings exclusively. Both the YS and the Noble Eightfold Path of
Buddhism also employ the term samādhi (“concentration”) for the culminat-
ing stage of meditation (Sarbacker 2005: 16–21). At this stage, all objects have
been removed from consciousness, which thereafter continues to exist in iso-
8 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
lation (kaivalyam), forever liberated from all entanglements. Kaivalyam is
also employed in Jain soteriology for the final state of the fully purified liber-
ated soul.
The BhG, the philosophical charter of “mainstream” Hindu theism, uses the
term yoga in the broad sense of “discipline” or “path,” and teaches that the
paths of gnosis (jñāna-yoga) and action (karma-yoga) are inferior to the path
of devotion (bhakti-yoga) to an all-powerful and benevolent supreme being.
However, here as well, it is the constant training of the cognitive faculties—to
meditatively concentrate on God in order to accurately perceive Him as the
source of all being and knowledge—that brings about salvation. In this teach-
ing, revealed by none other than the supreme being Krsna himself, the devotee
whose disciplined meditation is focused on God alone is often referred to as a
yogin. The BhG is possibly the first but by no means the last teaching to use
the term yoga preceded by an adjective or modifier (karma-, jñāna-, bhakti-),
thereby acknowledging—but also creating—a variety of yogas.
2. Yoga as the raising and expansion of consciousness. Through analytical in-
quiry and meditative practice, the lower organs or apparatus of human cogni-
tion are suppressed, allowing for higher, less obstructed levels of perception
and cognition to prevail. Here, consciousness-raising on a cognitive level is
seen to be simultaneous with the “physical” rise of the consciousness or self
through ever-higher levels or realms of cosmic space. Reaching the level of
consciousness of a god, for example, is tantamount to rising to that deity’s
cosmological level, to the atmospheric or heavenly world it inhabits. This is a
concept that likely flowed from the experience of the Vedic poets, who, by
“yoking” their minds to poetic inspiration, were empowered to journey to the
farthest reaches of the universe. The physical rise of the dying yoga-yukta char-
iot warrior to the highest cosmic plane may have also contributed to the for-
mulation of this idea.
Another development of this concept is the notion that the expansion of
consciousness is tantamount to the expansion of the self to the point that
one’s body or self becomes coextensive with the entire universe. The 289th
chapter of the twelfth book of the Mahābhārata concludes with a description
of just such an expansion of a yogi’s self [Fitzgerald], and one finds a similar
description in the Jain Umāsvāti’s fourth- to fifth-century Praśamaratipra-
karana. Several Mahāyāna Buddhist sources contain accounts of enlightened
beings whose “constructed bodies” (nirmānakāya) expand to fill the universe;
and the BhG’s description of the god Krsna’s universal body (viśvarūpa),
through which he displays his “masterful yoga,” is of the same order (White
2009: 167–97).
I ntr o d u c ti o n 9
Also in this regard, it should be noted that attention to the breath is a feature
of the theory and practice of meditation from the earliest times. Mindfulness
of one’s breathing is introduced in such early sources as the Majjhima Nikāya
as a fundamental element of Theravāda Buddhist meditation. In early Hindu
sources as well, controlling and stilling the breath is a prime technique for
calming the mind and turning it inward, away from the distractions of sensory
perception. Ātman, the term for the “self ” or “soul” in the classical Upanisads
and later works, is etymologically linked to the Sanskrit verb *an, “breathe,”
and it is via breath channels leading up from the heart—channels that merge
with the rays of the sun—that the self leaves the body at death to merge with
the Absolute (brahman) at the summit of the universe. These descriptions of
the breath channels also lie at the origin of yogic or “subtle” body physiology,
which would become fleshed out in great detail in India’s medieval Tantric
scriptures. In these and later works, the breath-propelled self ’s rise through
the levels of the universe would become completely internalized, with the spi-
nal column doubling as the universal axis mundi and the practitioner’s own
cranial vault becoming the place of the brahman and locus of immortality.
3. Yoga as a path to omniscience. Once it was established that true perception
or true cognition enables a self ’s enhanced or enlightened consciousness to
rise or expand to reach and penetrate distant regions of space—to see and
know things as they truly are beyond the illusory limitations imposed by a
deluded mind and sense perceptions—there were no limits to the places to
which consciousness could go. These “places” included past and future time,
locations distant and hidden, and even places invisible to view. This insight
became the foundation for theorizing the type of extrasensory perception
known as yogi perception (yogipratyaksa), which is in many Indian epistemo-
logical systems the highest of the “true cognitions” (pramānas), in other words,
the supreme and most irrefutable of all possible sources of knowledge. For the
Nyāya-Vaiśesika school, the earliest Hindu philosophical school to fully ana-
lyze this basis for transcendent knowledge, yogi perception is what permitted
the Vedic seers (rsis) to apprehend, in a single panoptical act of perception, the
entirety of the Vedic revelation, which was tantamount to viewing the entire
universe simultaneously, in all its parts. For the Buddhists, it was this that
provided the Buddha and other enlightened beings with the “buddha-eye” or
“divine eye,” which permitted them to see the true nature of reality. For the
early seventh-century Mādhyamaka philosopher Candrakīrti, yogi perception
afforded direct and profound insight into his school’s highest truth, that is,
into the emptiness (śūnyatā) of things and concepts, as well as relationships
between things and concepts (MacDonald 2009: 133–46).
10 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
mained the subject of lively debate among Hindu and Buddhist philosophers
well into the medieval period.
It was a widely held precept among ascetic traditions that extrasensory in-
sight into the ultimate nature of reality, a sort of omniscience, could be at-
tained through meditative practice. Here, there were two schools of thought
concerning the attainment of such insight. The Jains and a number of Hindu
and Buddhist schools asserted that the soul, self, or mind was luminous by
nature and innately possessed of perfect perception and insight, and that the
path to liberation simply comprised the realization of one’s innate qualities
and capacities. Others, including Theravāda and Sarvāstivāda Buddhists,
maintained that the path of asceticism and the practice of meditation were
necessary to purge cognition of its inborn defilements, and that only once this
difficult work had been completed could yogi perception and omniscience
arise (Franco 2009, 4–5). In the former case, meditation was the means to re-
alizing the divine within, one’s innate Buddha nature, to see the universe as
Self, and so forth. In the latter, the resulting extrasensory insight allowed the
ontologically imperfect practitioner to clearly see and truly know a god or
Buddha that nonetheless remained Wholly Other. Through such knowledge
one could, in the parlance of many of the dualist Hindu Tantric schools, “be-
come a god in order to worship god”—but one could never become god,
which is what the non-dualist schools maintained.
4. Yoga as a technique for entering into other bodies, generating multiple bodies,
and the attainment of other supernatural accomplishments. The classical Indian
understanding of everyday perception (pratyaksa) was similar to that of the
ancient Greeks. In both systems, the site at which visual perception occurs is
not the surface of the retina or the junction of the optic nerve with the brain’s
visual nuclei, but rather the contours of the perceived object. This means, for
example, that when I am viewing a tree, a ray of perception emitted from my
eye “con-forms” to the surface of the tree. The ray brings the image of the tree
back to my eye, which communicates it to my mind, which in turn communi-
cates it to my inner self or consciousness. In the case of yogi perception, the
practice of yoga enhances this process (in some cases, establishing an unmedi-
ated connection between consciousness and the perceived object), such that
the viewer not only sees things as they truly are, but is also able to directly see
through the surface of things into their innermost being. For non-Buddhists,
this applies, most importantly, to the perception of one’s own inner self as well
as the selves or souls of others. From here, it is but a short step to conceiving
of the viewer possessed of the power of yogi perception—texts often call him
a yogi—as possessing the power to physically penetrate, with his enhanced
I ntr o d u c ti o n 11
cognitive apparatus, into other people’s bodies (White 2009: 122–66). This is
the theory underlying the Tantric practice of “subtle yoga” described at the
beginning of this introduction. But in fact, the earliest references in all of In-
dian literature to individuals explicitly called yogis are Mahābhārata tales of
Hindu and Buddhist hermits who take over other people’s bodies in just this
way; and it is noteworthy that when yogis enter into other people’s bodies,
they are said to do so through rays emanating from their eyes. The epic also
asserts that a yogi so empowered can take over several thousand bodies simul-
taneously, and “walk the earth with all of them.” Buddhist sources describe the
same phenomenon with the important difference that the enlightened being
creates multiple bodies rather than taking over those belonging to other crea-
tures. This is a notion already elaborated in an early Buddhist work, the Sām-
aññaphalasutta, a teaching contained in the Dīgha Nikāya (the “Longer Say-
ings” of the Buddha), according to which a monk who has completed the four
Buddhist meditations gains, among other things, the power to self-multiply.
Several of the key terms found in this text reappear, with specific reference to
yoga and yogis, in the 100 BCE–200 CE Indian medical classic, the Caraka
Samhitā [Wujastyk].
The ability to enter into and control the bodies of other creatures is but one
of the supernatural powers (iddhis in Pali; siddhis or vibhūtis in Sanskrit) that
arise from the power of extrasensory perception (abhiññā in Pali; abhijñā in
Sanskrit). Others include the power of flight, clairaudience, telepathy, invisi-
bility, and the recollection of past lives—precisely the sorts of powers that the
yogis of Indian legend have been said to possess.
Here, it is helpful to introduce the difference between “yogi practice” and
“yoga practice,” which has been implicit to South Asian thought and practice
since the beginning of the Common Era, the period in which the terms “yogi”
and “yogi perception” first appeared in the Indian scriptural record. On the one
hand, there is “yoga practice,” which essentially denotes a program of mind-
training and meditation issuing in the realization of enlightenment, liberation,
or isolation from the world of suffering existence. Yoga practice is the practical
application of the theoretical precepts of the various yogic soteriologies, epis-
temologies, and gnoseologies presented in analytical works like the YS and the
teachings of the various Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain philosophical schools. Yogi
practice, on the other hand, concerns the supernatural powers that empower
yogis to take over other creatures’ bodies and so forth. Nearly every one of the
earliest narrative descriptions of yogis and their practices underscore the
axiom that the penetration of other bodies is the sine qua non of yoga.
The cleavage between these two more or less incompatible bodies of theory
and practice can be traced back to early Buddhist sources, which speak of a
12 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
rivalry between meditating “experimentalists” (jhāyins) and “speculatives”
(dhammayogas). In medieval Tantra, the same division obtained, this time be-
tween practitioners whose meditative practice led to gnosis and identity with
the divine on the one hand, and on the other, practitioners—referred to as
yogis or sādhakas—whose goal was this-worldly supernatural power in one’s
now invulnerable, ageless, and adamantine human body. The gulf between
yoga practice and yogi practice never ceased to widen over the centuries, such
that, by the time of the British Raj, India’s hordes of yogis were considered by
India’s elites to be little more than common criminals, with their fraudulent
practices—utterly at odds with the “true” science of yoga, which, taught in the
YS, was practiced by none—save perhaps for a handful of isolated hermits liv-
ing high in the Himalayas (Oman 1908: 3–30).
These four sets of concepts and practices form the core and foundational
vocabulary of nearly every yoga tradition, school, or system, with all that fol-
low the fourth- to seventh-century watershed—of the YS and various foun-
dational Buddhist and Jain works on meditation and yogi perception—simply
variations and expansions on this common core.
Medieval Developments
Yoga in the Tantras
The Tantras are pivotal works in the history of yoga, inasmuch as they carry
forward both the yoga and yogi practices and the gnoseological theory of ear-
lier traditions while introducing important innovations in theory and practice.
On the theoretical side, these medieval scriptures and commentarial traditions
promulgate a new variation on the preexisting yoga soteriology. No longer is
the practitioner’s ultimate goal liberation from suffering existence, but rather
self-deification: one becomes the deity that has been one’s object of meditation.
In a universe that is nothing other than the flow of divine consciousness, rais-
ing one’s consciousness to the level of god-consciousness—that is, attaining a
god’s-eye view that sees the universe as internal to one’s own transcendent
Self—is tantamount to becoming divine. A primary means to this end is the
detailed visualization of the deity with which one will ultimately identify: his
or her form, face(s), color, attributes, entourage, and so on. So, for example, in
the yoga of the Hindu Pāñcarātra sect, a practitioner’s meditation on succes-
sive emanations of the god Visnu culminates in his realization of the state of
“consisting in god” (Rastelli 2009: 299–317). The Tantric Buddhist cognate to
this is “deity yoga” (devayoga), whereby the practitioner meditatively assumes
the attributes and creates the environment (i.e., the Buddha world) of the
Buddha-deity he or she is about to become.
I ntr o d u c ti o n 13
In fact, the term yoga has a wide variety of connotations in the Tantras. It
can simply mean “practice” or “discipline” in a very broad sense, covering all of
the means at one’s disposal to realize one’s goals. It can also refer to the goal
itself: “conjunction,” “union,” or identity with divine consciousness. Indeed,
the Mālinīvijayottara Tantra, an important ninth-century Śākta-Śaiva Tantra,
uses the term yoga to denote its entire soteriological system (Vasudeva 2004).
In Buddhist Tantra—whose canonical teachings are divided into the exoteric
Yoga Tantras and the increasingly esoteric Higher Yoga Tantras, Supreme
Yoga Tantras, Unexcelled (or Unsurpassed) Yoga Tantras, and Yoginī Tan-
tras—yoga has the dual sense of both the means and ends of practice. Yoga
can also have the more particular, limited sense of a program of meditation or
visualization, as opposed to ritual (kriyā) or gnostic (jñāna) practice. However,
these categories of practice often bleed into one another. Finally, there are
specific types of yogic discipline, such as the Netra Tantra’s transcendent and
subtle yogas, already discussed.
Indo-Tibetan Buddhist Tantra—and with it, Buddhist Tantric Yoga—de-
veloped in lockstep with Hindu Tantra, with a hierarchy of revelations rang-
ing from earlier, exoteric systems of practice to the sex- and death-laden im-
agery of later esoteric pantheons, in which horrific skull-wielding Buddhas
were surrounded by the same yoginīs as their Hindu counterparts, the Bhaira-
vas of the esoteric Hindu Tantras. In the Buddhist Unexcelled Yoga Tantras,
“six-limbed yoga” comprised the visualization practices that facilitated the re-
alization of one’s innate identity with the deity [Wallace]. But rather than
simply being a means to an end in these traditions, yoga was also primarily an
end in itself: yoga was “union” or identity with the celestial Buddha named
Vajrasattva—the “Diamond Essence (of Enlightenment),” that is, one’s Bud-
dha nature. However, the same Tantras of the Diamond Path (Vajrayāna) also
implied that the innate nature of that union rendered the conventional prac-
tices undertaken for its realization ultimately irrelevant [Dalton].
Here, one can speak of two principal styles of Tantric Yoga, which coincide
with their respective metaphysics. The former, which recurs in the earliest
Tantric traditions, involves exoteric practices: visualization, generally pure
ritual offerings, worship, and the use of mantras. The dualist metaphysics of
these traditions maintains that there is an ontological difference between god
and creature, which can gradually be overcome through concerted effort and
practice. The latter, esoteric, traditions develop out of the former even as they
reject much of exoteric theory and practice. In these systems, esoteric practice,
involving the real or symbolic consumption of forbidden substances and sex-
ual transactions with forbidden partners, is the fast track to self-deification.
However, given the non-dualist metaphysics of esoteric Tantra, which main-
tains that all creatures are innately divine or enlightened, such practices are
14 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
considered ultimately unnecessary. A number of Tantric scriptures and com-
mentaries underscore the complementarity of the exoteric and esoteric ap-
proaches, urging that the yogi’s central task is to balance the two: this is the
position taken, for example, by the Buddhist Mahāsiddha Saraha in his analy-
sis of the doctrines and practices of the Yoginī Tantras [ Jackson].
In the exoteric Tantras, visualization, ritual offerings, worship, and the use
of mantras were the means to the gradual realization of one’s identity with the
absolute. In later, esoteric traditions, however, the expansion of consciousness
to a divine level was instantaneously triggered through the consumption of
forbidden substances: semen, menstrual blood, feces, urine, human flesh, and
the like. Menstrual or uterine blood, which was considered to be the most
powerful among these forbidden substances, could be accessed through sexual
relations with female Tantric consorts. Variously called yoginīs, dākinīs, or
dūtīs, these were ideally low-caste human women who were considered to be
possessed by, or embodiments of, Tantric goddesses. In the case of the yoginīs,
these were the same goddesses as those that ate their victims in the practice of
“transcendent yoga.” Whether by consuming the sexual emissions of these
forbidden women or through the bliss of sexual orgasm with them, Tantric
yogis could “blow their minds” and realize a breakthrough into transcendent
levels of consciousness. Once again, yogic consciousness-raising doubled with
the physical rise of the yogi’s body through space, in this case in the embrace
of the yoginī or dākinī who, as an embodied goddess, was possessed of the
power of flight. It was for this reason that the medieval yoginī temples were
roofless: they were the yoginīs’ landing fields and launching pads (White 2003:
7–13, 204–18).
In many Tantras, such as the eighth-century CE Matangapārameśvarāgama
of the Hindu Śaivasiddhānta school, this visionary ascent became actualized
in the practitioner’s rise through the levels of the universe until, arriving at the
highest void, the supreme deity Sadāśiva conferred his own divine rank upon
him (Sanderson 2006: 205–6). It is in such a context—of a graded hierarchy
of stages or states of consciousness, with corresponding deities, mantras, and
cosmological levels—that the Tantras innovated the construct known as the
“subtle body” or “yogic body.” Here, the practitioner’s body became identified
with the entire universe, such that all of the processes and transformations
occurring to his body in the world were now described as occurring to a world
inside his body. While the breath channels (nādīs) of yogic practice had al-
ready been discussed in the classical Upanisads, it was not until such Tantric
works as the eighth-century Buddhist Hevajra Tantra and Caryāgīti that a
hierarchy of inner energy centers—variously called cakras (“circles,” “wheels”),
padmas (“lotuses”), or pīthas (“mounds”)—were introduced. These early Bud-
I ntr o d u c ti o n 15
dhist sources only mention four such centers aligned along the spinal column,
but in the centuries that follow, Hindu Tantras such as the Kubjikāmata and
Kaulajñānanirnaya would expand that number to five, six, seven, eight, and
more. The so-called classical hierarchy of seven cakras—ranging from the
mūlādhāra at the level of the anus to the sahasrāra in the cranial vault, replete
with color coding, fixed numbers of petals linked to the names of yoginīs, the
graphemes and phonemes of the Sanskrit alphabet—was a still later develop-
ment. So too was the introduction of the kundalinī, the female Serpent En-
ergy coiled at the base of the yogic body, whose awakening and rapid rise ef-
fects the practitioner’s inner transformation (White 2003: 220–34).
Given the wide range of applications of the term yoga in the Tantras,
the semantic field of the term “yogi” is relatively circumscribed. Yogis who
forcefully take over the bodies of other creatures are the villains of countless
medieval accounts, including the tenth- to eleventh-century Kashmirian
Kathāsaritsāgara (“Ocean of Rivers of Story,” which contains the famous Ve-
tālapañcavimśati—the “Twenty-five Tales of the Zombie”) and the Yogavā-
sistha. In the seventh-century farce entitled Bhagavadajjukīya, the “Tale of the
Saint Courtesan,” a yogi who briefly occupies the body of a dead prostitute is
cast as a comic figure. Well into the twentieth century, the term yogi contin-
ued to be used nearly exclusively to refer to a Tantric practitioner who opted
for this-worldly self-aggrandizement over disembodied liberation. Tantric
yogis specialize in esoteric practices, often carried out in cremation grounds,
practices that often verge on black magic and sorcery. Once again, this was,
overwhelmingly, the primary sense of the term “yogi” in pre-modern Indic
traditions: nowhere prior to the seventeenth century do we find it applied to
persons seated in fixed postures, regulating their breath or entering into medi-
tative states.
Hatha Yoga
A new regimen of yoga called the “yoga of forceful exertion” rapidly emerges
as a comprehensive system in the tenth to eleventh century, as evidenced in
works like the Yogavāsistha and the original Goraksa Śataka (“Hundred Verses
of Goraksa”) [Mallinson]. While the famous cakras, nādīs, and kundalinī pre-
date its advent, hatha yoga is entirely innovative in its depiction of the yogic
body as a pneumatic, but also a hydraulic and a thermodynamic system. The
practice of breath control becomes particularly refined in the hathayogic texts,
with elaborate instructions provided concerning the calibrated regulation of
the breaths. In certain sources, the duration of time during which the breath is
held is of primary importance, with lengthened periods of breath stoppage
16 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
corresponding to expanded levels of supernatural power. This science of the
breath had a number of offshoots, including a form of divination based on the
movements of the breath within and outside of the body, an esoteric tradition
that found its way into medieval Tibetan and Persian [Ernst] sources.
In a novel variation on the theme of consciousness-raising-as-internal-
ascent, hatha yoga also represents the yogic body as a sealed hydraulic system
within which vital fluids may be channeled upward as they are refined into
nectar through the heat of asceticism. Here, the semen of the practitioner,
lying inert in the coiled body of the serpentine kundalinī in the lower abdo-
men, becomes heated through the bellows effect of prānāyāma, the repeated
inflation and deflation of the peripheral breath channels. The awakened
kundalinī suddenly straightens and enters into the susumnā, the medial chan-
nel that runs the length of the spinal column up to the cranial vault. Propelled
by the yogi’s heated breaths, the hissing kundalinī serpent shoots upward,
piercing each of the cakras as she rises. With the penetration of each succeed-
ing cakra, vast amounts of heat are released, such that the semen contained in
the kundalinī’s body becomes gradually transmuted. This body of theory and
practice was quickly adopted in both Jain and Buddhist Tantric works. In the
Buddhist case, the cognate of the kundalinī was the fiery avadhūtī or candālī
(“outcaste woman”), whose union with the male principle in the cranial vault
caused the fluid “thought of enlightenment” (bodhicitta) to flood the practitio-
ner’s body.
The cakras of the yogic body are identified in hathayogic sources not only as
so many internalized cremation grounds—both the favorite haunts of the me-
dieval Tantric yogis, and those sites on which a burning fire releases the self
from the body before hurling it skyward—but also as “circles” of dancing,
howling, high-flying yoginīs whose flight is fueled, precisely, by their ingestion
of male semen. When the kundalinī reaches the end of her rise and bursts into
the cranial vault, the semen that she has been carrying has been transformed
into the nectar of immortality, which the yogi then drinks internally from the
bowl of his own skull. With it, he becomes an immortal, invulnerable, being
possessed of supernatural powers, a god on earth.
Without a doubt, hatha yoga both synthesizes and internalizes many of the
elements of earlier yoga systems: meditative ascent, upward mobility via the
flight of the yoginī (now replaced by the kundalinī), and a number of esoteric
Tantric practices. It is also probable that the thermodynamic transformations
internal to Hindu alchemy, the essential texts of which predate the hatha yoga
canon by at least a century, also provided a set of theoretical models for the
new system (White 1996).
With respect to modern-day postural yoga, hatha yoga’s greatest legacy is to
I ntr o d u c ti o n 17
be found in the combination of fixed postures (āsanas), breath control tech-
niques (prānāyāma), locks (bandhas), and seals (mudrās) that comprise its
practical side. These are the practices that isolate the inner yogic body from
the outside, such that it becomes a hermetically sealed system within which
air and fluids can be drawn upward, against their normal downward flow.
These techniques are described in increasing detail between the tenth and
fifteenth centuries, the period of the flowering of the hatha yoga corpus. In
later centuries, a canonical number of eighty-four āsanas would be reached
(Bühnemann 2007).
Often, the practice system of hatha yoga is referred to as “six-limbed” yoga,
as a means of distinguishing it from the “eight-limbed” practice of the YS.
What the two systems generally share in common with one another—as well
as with the yoga systems of the late classical Upanisads, the later Yoga Upa-
nisads, and every Buddhist yoga system—are posture, breath control, and the
three levels of meditative concentration leading to samādhi. In the YS, these
six practices are preceded by behavioral restraints and purificatory ritual ob-
servances (yama and niyama). The Jain yoga systems of both the eighth-
century Haribhadra and the tenth- to thirteenth-century Digambara Jain
monk Rāmasena are also eight-limbed [Dundas]. By the time of the fifteenth-
century CE Hathayogapradīpikā (also known as the Hathapradīpikā) of
Svātmarāman, this distinction had become codified under a different set of
terms: hatha yoga, which comprised the practices leading to liberation in the
body (jīvanmukti) was made to be the inferior stepsister of rāja yoga, the
meditative techniques that culminate in the cessation of suffering through
disembodied liberation (videha mukti). These categories could, however, be
subverted, as a remarkable albeit idiosyncratic eighteenth-century Tantric
document makes abundantly clear [Vasudeva].
Here, it should be noted that prior to the end of the first millennium CE,
detailed descriptions of āsanas were nowhere to be found in the Indian textual
record. In the light of this, any claim that sculpted images of cross-legged
figures—including those represented on the famous clay seals from third mil-
lennium BCE Indus Valley archeological sites—represent yogic postures are
speculative at best (White 2009: 48–59).
The Nāth Yogīs
All of the earliest Sanskrit-language works on hatha yoga are attributed to
Gorakhnāth, the twelfth- to thirteenth-century founder of the religious order
known as the Nāth Yogīs, Nāth Siddhas, or simply, the yogis. The Nāth Yogīs
were and remain the sole South Asian order to self-identify as yogis, which
18 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
makes perfect sense given their explicit agenda of bodily immortality, invul-
nerability, and the attainment of supernatural powers. While little is known of
the life of this founder and innovator, Gorakhnāth’s prestige was such that an
important number of seminal hatha yoga works, many of which postdated the
historical Gorakhnāth by several centuries, named him as their author in order
to lend them a cachet of authenticity. In addition to these Sanskrit-language
guides to the practice of hatha yoga, Gorakhnāth and several of his disciples
were also the putative authors of a rich treasury of mystic poetry, written in the
vernacular language of twelfth- to fourteenth-century northwest India. These
poems contain particularly vivid descriptions of the yogic body, identifying its
inner landscapes with the principal mountains, river systems, and other land-
forms of the Indian subcontinent as well as with the imagined worlds of me-
dieval Indic cosmology. This legacy would be carried forward in the later Yoga
Upanisads as well as in the mystic poetry of the late medieval Tantric revival
of the eastern region of Bengal [Hayes]. It also survives in popular traditions
of rural north India, where the esoteric teachings of yogi gurus of yore con-
tinue to be sung by modern-day yogi bards in all-night village gatherings
[Gold and Gold].
Given their reputed supernatural powers, the Tantric yogis of medieval ad-
venture and fantasy literature were often cast as rivals to princes and kings
whose thrones and harems they tried to usurp. In the case of the Nāth Yogīs,
these relationships were real and documented, with members of their order
celebrated in a number of kingdoms across northern and western India for
having brought down tyrants and raised untested princes to the throne. These
feats are also chronicled in late medieval Nāth Yogī hagiographies and legend
cycles, which feature princes who abandon the royal life to take initiation with
illustrious gurus, and yogis who use their remarkable supernatural powers for
the benefit (or to the detriment) of kings. All of the great Mughal emperors
had interactions with the Nāth Yogīs, including Aurangzeb, who appealed to
a yogi abbot for an alchemical aphrodisiac; Shāh Alam II, whose fall from
power was foretold by a naked yogi; and the illustrious Akbar, whose fascina-
tion and political savvy brought him into contact with Nāth Yogīs on several
occasions [Pinch].
While it is often difficult to separate fact from fiction in the case of the
Nāth Yogīs, there can be no doubt but that they were powerful figures who
provoked powerful reactions on the part of the humble and mighty alike. At
the height of their power between the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries,
they appeared frequently in the writings of north Indian poet-saints (sants)
like Kabīr and Guru Nānak, who generally castigated them for their arro-
gance and obsession with worldly power. The Nāth Yogīs were among the first
I ntr o d u c ti o n 19
religious orders to militarize into fighting units, a practice that became so
commonplace that by the eighteenth century the north Indian military labor
market was dominated by “yogi” warriors who numbered in the hundreds of
thousands (Pinch 2006)! It was not until the late eighteenth century, when
the British quashed the so-called Sannyasi and Fakir Rebellion in Bengal,
that the widespread phenomenon of the yogi warrior began to disappear from
the Indian subcontinent.
Like the Sufi fakirs with whom they were often associated, the yogis were
widely considered by India’s rural peasantry to be superhuman allies who
could protect them from the supernatural entities responsible for disease,
famine, misfortune, and death. Yet, the same yogis have long been dreaded
and feared for the havoc they are capable of wreaking on persons weaker than
themselves. Even to the present day in rural India and Nepal, parents will
scold naughty children by threatening them that “the yogi will come and take
them away.” There may be a historical basis to this threat: well into the mod-
ern period, poverty-stricken villagers sold their children into the yogi orders
as an acceptable alternative to death by starvation.
The Yoga Upanisads
The Yoga Upanisads [Ruff ] are a collection of twenty-one medieval Indian
reinterpretations of the so-called classical Upanisads, that is, works like the
Kathaka Upanisad, quoted earlier. Their content is devoted to metaphysical
correspondences between the universal macrocosm and bodily microcosm,
meditation, mantra, and techniques of yogic practice. While it is the case that
their content is quite entirely derivative of Tantric and Nāth Yogī traditions,
their originality lies in their Vedānta-style non-dualist metaphysics (Bouy
1994). The earliest works of this corpus, devoted to meditation upon mantras--
especially OM, the acoustic essence of the absolute brahman—were compiled
in north India some time between the ninth and thirteenth centuries. Between
the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries, south Indian brahmins greatly ex-
panded these works—folding into them a wealth of data from the Hindu Tan-
tras as well as the hatha yoga traditions of the Nāth Yogīs, including the
kundalinī, the yogic āsanas, and the internal geography of the yogic body. So it
is that many of the Yoga Upanisads exist both in short “northern” and longer
“southern” versions. Far to the north, in Nepal, one finds the same influences
and philosophical orientations in the Vairāgyāmvara, a work on yoga com-
posed by the eighteenth-century founder of the Josmanī sect. In some respects,
its author Śaśidhara’s political and social activism anticipated the agendas of
the nineteenth-century Indian founders of modern yoga [Timilsina].
20 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
Modern Yoga
In Calcutta, colonial India’s most important center of intellectual life, the late
nineteenth century saw the emergence of a new “holy man” style among lead-
ers of the Indian reform and independence movement. A prime catalyst for
this shift was the 1882 publication of Bankim Chandra Chatterji’s powerful
and controversial Bengali novel Ānandamath (Lipner 2005), which drew par-
allels between the Sannyasi and Fakir Rebellion and the cause of Indian inde-
pendence. In the years and decades that followed, numerous (mainly Bengali)
reformers shed their Western-style clothing to put on the saffron robes of
Indian holy men. These included, most notably, Swami Vivekananda, the In-
dian founder of “modern yoga” (De Michelis 2004: 91–180); and Sri Au-
robindo, who was jailed by the British for plotting a sannyāsī revolt against the
Empire but who devoted the latter part of his life to yoga, founding his famous
āśram in Pondicherry in 1926. While the other leading yoga gurus of the first
half of the twentieth century had no reform or political agenda, they left their
mark by carrying the gospel of modern yoga to the west. These include Para-
mahamsa Yogananda, the author of the perennial best-selling 1946 publica-
tion, Autobiography of a Yogi; Sivananda, who was for a short time the guru of
the pioneering yoga scholar and historian of religions Mircea Eliade; Kuvalay-
ananda, who focused on the modern scientific and medical benefits of yoga
practice (Alter 2004: 73–108); Hariharananda Aranya, the founder of the Kap-
ila Matha [ Jacobsen]; and Krishnamacharya [Singleton, Narasimhan, and
Jayashree], the guru of the three hatha yoga masters most responsible for popu-
larizing postural yoga throughout the world in the late twentieth century.
Vivekananda’s rehabilitation of what he termed “rāja yoga” is exemplary, for
its motives, its influences, and its content. A shrewd culture broker seeking a
way to turn his countrymen away from practices he termed “kitchen religion,”
Vivekananda seized upon the symbolic power of yoga as a genuinely Indian,
yet non-sectarian, type of applied philosophy that could be wielded as a “uni-
fying sign of the Indian nation . . . not only for national consumption but for
consumption by the entire world” (Van der Veer 2001: 73–74). For Vive-
kananda, rāja yoga, or “classical yoga,” was the science of yoga taught in theYoga
Sūtra, a notion he took from none other than the Theosophist Madame Bla-
vatsky, who had a strong Indian following in the late nineteenth century. Fol-
lowing his success in introducing rāja yoga to western audiences at the 1892
World Parliament of Religions at Chicago, Vivekananda remained in the
United States for much of the next decade (he died in 1902), lecturing and
writing on the YS. His quite idiosyncratic interpretations of this work were
I ntr o d u c ti o n 21
highly congenial to the religiosity of the period, which found expression in
India mainly through the rationalist spirituality of Neo-Vedānta. So it was
that Vivekananda defined rāja yoga as the supreme contemplative path to self-
realization, in which the self so realized was the supreme self, the absolute
brahman or god-self within.
While Vivekananda’s influence on present-day understandings of yoga the-
ory is incalculable, his disdain for the means and ends of hatha yoga practice
were such that that form of yoga—the principal traditional source of modern
postural yoga—was slow to be embraced by the modern world. It should be
noted here that within India, the tradition of hatha yoga had been all but lost,
and that it was not until the publication of a number of editions of late hatha
yoga texts, by the Theosophical Society and others, that interest in it was re-
kindled. Indeed, none other than the great Krishnamacharya himself went to
Tibet in search of true practitioners of a tradition he considered lost in India
(Kadetsky 2004: 76–79). One of the earliest American practitioners to study
yoga under Indian teachers and later attempt to market the teachings of hatha
yoga in the west, Theos Bernard died in Tibet in the 1930s while searching
there for the yogic “grail” [Hackett].
Whatever Krishnamacharya found in his journey to Tibet, the yoga that he
taught in his role of “yoga master” of the Mysore Palace was an eclectic amal-
gam of hatha yoga techniques, British military calisthenics, and the regional
gymnastic and wrestling traditions of southwestern India (Sjoman 1996). Be-
ginning in the 1950s, his three leading disciples—B. K. S. Iyengar, K. Pattabhi
Jois, and T.K.V. Desikachar—would introduce their own variations on his
techniques and so define the postural yoga that has swept Europe, the United
States, and much of the rest of the world. The direct and indirect disciples of
these three innovators form the vanguard of yoga teachers on the contempo-
rary scene. The impact of these innovators of yoga, with their eclectic blend of
training in postures with teachings from the YS, also had the secondary effect
of catalyzing a reform within the Śvetāmbara Jain community, opening the
door to the emergence of a universalistic and missionary yoga-based Jainism
in the United Kingdom in particular [Qvarnström and Birch].
In the course of the past thirty years, yoga has been transformed more than
at any time since the advent of hatha yoga in the tenth to eleventh centuries
(Syman 2010). The theoretical pairing of yoga with mind-expanding drugs,
the practice of “cakra adjustment,” the use of crystals: these are but a few of
the entirely original improvisations on a four-thousand-year-old theme,
which have been invented outside of India during the past decades. Aware of
this appropriation of what it rightly considers to be its own cultural legacy,
Indians have begun to take steps to safeguard their yoga traditions.
Over the past decades, yoga has become part of the Zeitgeist of affluent west-
ern societies, drawing housewives and hipsters, New Agers and the old-aged,
and body culture and corporate culture into a multibillion-dollar synergy. Like
every Indian cultural artifact that it has embraced, the West views Indian yoga
as an ancient, unchanging tradition, based on revelations received by the Vedic
sages who, seated in the lotus pose, were the Indian forerunners of the flat-
tummied yoga babes who grace the covers of such glossy periodicals as the
In the United States in particular, yoga has become a commodity. Statistics
show that about 16 million Americans practice yoga every year. For most peo-
ple, this means going to a yoga center with yoga mats, yoga clothes, and yoga
accessories, and practicing in groups under the guidance of a yoga teacher or
trainer. Here, yoga practice comprises a regimen of postures (āsanas)—some-
times held for long periods of time, sometimes executed in rapid sequence--
often together with techniques of breath control (prānāyāma). Yoga entrepre-
neurs have branded their own styles of practice, from Bikram’s superheated
workout rooms to studios that have begun offering “doga,” practicing yoga
together with one’s dog. They have opened franchises, invented logos, pack-
aged their practice regimens under Sanskrit names, and marketed a lifestyle
that fuses yoga with leisure travel, healing spas, and seminars on eastern spiri-
tuality. “Yoga celebrities” have become a part of our vocabulary, and with ce-
lebrity has come the usual entourage of publicists, business managers, and
1
In this introduction, names in [square brackets] refer to contributions found in this volume,
while references in (parentheses) refer to works found in Works Cited at the end of this
chapter.
2 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
lawyers. Yoga is mainstream. Arguably India’s greatest cultural export, yoga has
morphed into a mass culture phenomenon.
Many yoga celebrities, as well as a strong percentage of less celebrated yoga
teachers, combine their training with teachings on healing, spirituality, medi-
tation, and India’s ancient yoga traditions, the Sanskrit-language Yoga Sūtra
(YS) in particular. Here, they are following the lead of the earliest yoga entre-
preneurs, the Indian gurus who brought the gospel of yoga to western shores
in the wake of Swami Vivekananda’s storied successes of the late nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries.
But what were India’s ancient yoga traditions, and what relationship do
they have to the modern postural yoga (Singleton 2010) that people are prac-
ticing across the world today? In fact, the yoga that is taught and practiced
today has very little in common with the yoga of the YS and other ancient
yoga treatises. Nearly all of our popular assumptions about yoga theory date
from the past 150 years, and very few modern-day practices date from before
the twelfth century. This is not the first time that people have “reinvented”
yoga in their own image. As the contributions to this volume demonstrate,
this is a process that has been ongoing for at least two thousand years. Every
group in every age has created its own version and vision of yoga. One reason
this has been possible is that its semantic field—the range of meanings of the
term “yoga”—is so broad and the concept of yoga so malleable, that it has
been possible to morph it into nearly any practice or process one chooses.
When seeking to define a tradition, it is useful to begin by defining one’s
terms. It is here that problems arise. “Yoga” has a wider range of meanings
than nearly any other word in the entire Sanskrit lexicon. The act of yoking an
animal, as well as the yoke itself, is called yoga. In astronomy, a conjunction of
planets or stars, as well as a constellation, is called yoga. When one mixes to-
gether various substances, that, too, can be called yoga. The word yoga has also
been employed to denote a device, a recipe, a method, a strategy, a charm, an
incantation, fraud, a trick, an endeavor, a combination, union, an arrangement,
zeal, care, diligence, industriousness, discipline, use, application, contact, a sum
total, and the Work of alchemists. But this is by no means an exhaustive list.
So, for example, the ninth-century Netra Tantra, a Hindu scripture from
Kashmir, describes what it calls subtle yoga and transcendent yoga. Subtle
yoga is nothing more or less than a body of techniques for entering into and
taking over other people’s bodies. As for transcendental yoga, this is a process
that involves superhuman female predators, called yoginīs, who eat people! By
eating people, this text says, the yoginīs consume the sins of the body that
would otherwise bind them to suffering rebirth, and so allow for the “union”
(yoga) of their purified souls with the supreme god Śiva, a union that is tanta-
I ntr o d u c ti o n 3
mount to salvation (White 2009: 162–63). In this ninth-century source, there
is no discussion whatsoever of postures or breath control, the prime markers
of yoga as we know it today. More troubling still, the third- to fourth-century
CE YS and Bhagavad Gītā (BhG), the two most widely cited textual sources
for “classical yoga,” virtually ignore postures and breath control, each devoting
a total of fewer than ten verses to these practices. They are far more concerned
with the issue of human salvation, realized through the theory and practice of
meditation (dhyāna) in the YS [Larson] and through concentration on the
god Krsna in the BhG [Malinar].
Indian Foundations of Yoga Theory and Practice
Clearly something is missing here. There is a gap between the ancient, “classi-
cal” yoga tradition and yoga as we know it. In order to understand the discon-
nect between then and now, we would do well to go back to the earliest uses of
the term yoga, which are found in texts far more ancient than the YS or BhG.
Here I am referring to India’s earliest scriptures, the Vedas. In the circa fif-
teenth-century BCE Rg Veda, yoga meant, before all else, the yoke one placed
on a draft animal—a bullock or warhorse—to yoke it to a plow or chariot. The
resemblance of these terms is not fortuitous: the Sanskrit “yoga” is a cognate of
the English “yoke,” because Sanskrit and English both belong to the Indo-
European language family (which is why the Sanskrit mātr resembles the Eng-
lish “mother,” sveda looks like “sweat,” udara—“belly” in Sanskrit—looks like
“udder,” and so forth). In the same scripture, we see the term’s meaning ex-
panded through metonymy, with “yoga” being applied to the entire conveyance
or “rig” of a war chariot: to the yoke itself, the team of horses or bullocks, and
the chariot itself with its many straps and harnesses. And, because such chariots
were only hitched up (yukta) in times of war, an important Vedic usage of the
term yoga was “wartime,” in contrast to ksema, “peacetime.”
The Vedic reading of yoga as one’s war chariot or rig came to be incorpo-
rated into the warrior ideology of ancient India. In the Mahābhārata, India’s
200 BCE–400 CE “national epic,” we read the earliest narrative accounts of
the battlefield apotheosis of heroic chariot warriors. This was, like the Greek
Iliad, an epic of battle, and so it was appropriate that the glorification of a
warrior who died fighting his enemies be showcased here. What is interesting,
for the purposes of the history of the term yoga, is that in these narratives, the
warrior who knew he was about to die was said to become yoga-yukta, literally
“yoked to yoga,” with “yoga” once again meaning a chariot. This time, however,
it was not the warrior’s own chariot that carried him up to the highest heaven,
4 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
reserved for gods and heroes alone. Rather, it was a celestial “yoga,” a divine
chariot, that carried him upward in a burst of light to and through the sun,
and on to the heaven of gods and heroes.
Warriors were not the sole individuals of the Vedic age to have chariots
called “yogas.” The gods, too, were said to shuttle across heaven, and between
earth and heaven on yogas. Furthermore, the Vedic priests who sang the Vedic
hymns related their practice to the yoga of the warrior aristocracy who were
their patrons. In their hymns, they describe themselves as “yoking” their minds
to poetic inspiration and so journeying—if only with their mind’s eye or cog-
nitive apparatus—across the metaphorical distance that separated the world
of the gods from the words of their hymns. A striking image of their poetic
journeys is found in a verse from a late Vedic hymn, in which the poet-priests
describe themselves as “hitched up” (yukta) and standing on their chariot
shafts as they sally forth on a vision quest across the universe.
The earliest extant systematic account of yoga and a bridge from the earlier
Vedic uses of the term is found in the Hindu Kathaka Upanisad (KU), a scrip-
ture dating from about the third century BCE. Here, the god of Death reveals
what is termed the “entire yoga regimen” to a young ascetic named Naciketas.
In the course of his teaching, Death compares the relationship between the
self, body, intellect, and so forth to the relationship between a rider, his chariot,
charioteer, etc. (KU 3.3–9), a comparison which approximates that made in
Plato’s Phaedrus. Three elements of this text set the agenda for much of what
constitutes yoga in the centuries that follow. First, it introduces a sort of yogic
physiology, calling the body a “fort with eleven gates” and evoking “a person
the size of a thumb” who, dwelling within, is worshiped by all the gods (KU
4.12; 5.1, 3). Second, it identifies the individual person within with the univer-
sal Person (purusa) or absolute Being (brahman), asserting that this is what
sustains life (KU 5.5, 8–10). Third, it describes the hierarchy of mind-body
constituents—the senses, mind, intellect, etc.—that comprise the founda-
tional categories of Sāmkhya philosophy, whose metaphysical system grounds
the yoga of the YS, BhG, and other texts and schools (KU 3.10–11; 6.7–8).
Because these categories were hierarchically ordered, the realization of higher
states of consciousness was, in this early context, tantamount to an ascension
through levels of outer space, and so we also find in this and other early Upa-
nisads the concept of yoga as a technique for “inner” and “outer” ascent. These
same sources also introduce the use of acoustic spells or formulas (mantras),
the most prominent among these being the syllable OM, the acoustic form of
the supreme brahman. In the following centuries, mantras would become pro-
gressively incorporated into yogic theory and practice, in the medieval Hindu,
Buddhist, and Jain Tantras, as well as the Yoga Upanisads.
I ntr o d u c ti o n 5
Following this circa third-century BCE watershed, textual references to
yoga multiply rapidly in Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist sources, reaching a critical
mass some seven hundred to one thousand years later. It is during this initial
burst that most of the perennial principles of yoga theory—as well as many
elements of yoga practice—were originally formulated. Toward the latter end
of this period, one sees the emergence of the earliest yoga systems, in the YS;
the third- to fourth-century scriptures of the Buddhist Yogācāra school and
fourth- to fifth-century Visuddhimagga of Buddhaghosa; and the Yogadrsti-
samuccaya of the eighth-century Jain author Haribhadra. Although the YS
may be slightly later than the Yogācāra canon, this tightly ordered series of
aphorisms is so remarkable and comprehensive for its time that it is often re-
ferred to as “classical yoga.” It is also known as pātañjala yoga (“Patañjalian
yoga”), in recognition of its putative compiler, Patañjali.
The Yogācāra (“Yoga Practice”) school of Mahāyāna Buddhism was the
earliest Buddhist tradition to employ the term yoga to denote its philosophi-
cal system. Also known as Vijñānavāda (“Doctrine of Consciousness”), Yogā-
cāra offered a systematic analysis of perception and consciousness together
with a set of meditative disciplines designed to eliminate the cognitive errors
that prevented liberation from suffering existence. Yogācāra’s eight-stage med-
itative practice itself was not termed yoga, however, but rather “calmness”
(śamatha) or “insight” (vipaśyanā) meditation (Cleary 1995). The Yogācāra
analysis of consciousness has many points in common with the more or less
coeval YS, and there can be no doubt that cross-pollination occurred across
religious boundaries in matters of yoga (La Vallée Poussin, 1936–1937). The
Yogavāsistha (“Vasistha’s Teachings on Yoga”)—a circa tenth-century Hindu
work from Kashmir that combined analytical and practical teachings on
“yoga” with vivid mythological accounts illustrative of its analysis of con-
sciousness [Chapple]—takes positions similar to those of Yogācāra concern-
ing errors of perception and the human inability to distinguish between our
interpretations of the world and the world itself.
The Jains were the last of the major Indian religious groups to employ the
term yoga to imply anything remotely resembling “classical” formulations of
yoga theory and practice. The earliest Jain uses of the term, found in Umāsvāti’s
fourth- to fifth-century Tattvārthasūtra (6.1–2), the earliest extant systematic
work of Jain philosophy, defined yoga as “activity of the body, speech, and
mind.” As such, yoga was, in early Jain parlance, actually an impediment to
liberation. Here, yoga could only be overcome through its opposite, ayoga
(“non-yoga,” inaction)—that is, through meditation (jhāna; dhyāna), asceti-
cism, and other practices of purification that undo the effects of earlier activ-
ity. The earliest systematic Jain work on yoga, Haribhadra’s circa 750 CE Yoga-
6 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
drstisamuccaya, was strongly influenced by the YS, yet nonetheless retained
much of Umāsvāti’s terminology, even as it referred to observance of the path
as yogācāra (Qvarnström 2003: 131–33).
This is not to say that between the fourth century BCE and the second to
fourth century CE, neither the Buddhists nor the Jains were engaging in
practices that we might today identify as yoga. To the contrary, early Buddhist
sources like the Majjhima Nikāya—the “Middle-length Sayings” attributed
to the Buddha himself—are replete with references to self-mortification and
meditation as practiced by the Jains, which the Buddha condemned and con-
trasted to his own set of four meditations (Bronkhorst 1993: 1–5, 19–24). In
the Anguttara Nikāya (“Gradual Sayings”), another set of teachings attributed
to the Buddha, one finds descriptions of jhāyins (“meditators,” “experiential-
ists”) that closely resemble early Hindu descriptions of practitioners of yoga
(Eliade 2009: 174–75). Their ascetic practices—never termed yoga in these
early sources—were likely innovated within the various itinerant śramana
groups that circulated in the eastern Gangetic basin in the latter half of the
first millennium BCE.
Even as the term yoga began to appear with increasing frequency between
300 BCE and 400 CE, its meaning was far from fixed. It is only in later cen-
turies that a relatively systematic yoga nomenclature became established
among Hindus, Buddhists, and Jains. By the beginning of the fifth century,
however, the core principles of yoga were more or less in place, with most of
what followed being variations on that original core. Here, we would do well
to outline these principles, which have persisted through time and across tra-
ditions for some two thousand years. They may be summarized as follows:
1. Yoga as an analysis of perception and cognition. Yoga is an analysis of the
dysfunctional nature of everyday perception and cognition, which lies at the
root of suffering, the existential conundrum whose solution is the goal of In-
dian philosophy. Once one comprehends the cause(s) of the problem, one can
solve it through philosophical analysis combined with meditative practice.
At bottom, India’s many yoga traditions are soteriologies, doctrines of salva-
tion, concerning the attainment of release from suffering existence and the
cycle of rebirths (samsāra). The problem of suffering existence and the allied
doctrine of cyclic rebirth emerges about five centuries before the beginning of
the common era, in the early Upanisads as well as the original teachings of the
Jain founder Mahāvīra and the Buddhist founder Gautama Buddha. The same
teachings that posit the problem of suffering existence also offer a solution to
the problem, which may be summarized by the word “gnosis” (jñāna or prajñā
in Sanskrit; paññā in Pali). As such, these are also to be counted among the
I ntr o d u c ti o n 7
earliest Indian epistemologies, philosophical theories of what constitutes au-
thentic knowledge. Gnosis—transcendent, immediate, non-conventional
knowledge of ultimate reality, of the reality behind appearances—is the key to
salvation in all of these early soteriologies, as well as in India’s major philo-
sophical schools, many of which developed in the centuries around the begin-
ning of the Common Era. As such, these are gnoseologies, theories of salvation
through knowledge, in which to know the truth (i.e., that in spite of appear-
ances, one is, in fact, not trapped in suffering existence) is to realize it in fact.
The classic example of such a transformation is that of the Buddha: by realiz-
ing the Four Noble Truths, he became the “Awakened” or “Enlightened” One
(Buddha), and so was liberated from future rebirths, realizing the extinction of
suffering (nibbāna; nirvāna) at the end of his life.
In all of these systems, the necessary condition for gnosis is the disengage-
ment of one’s cognitive apparatus from sense impressions and base matter
(including the matter of the body). An important distinguishing characteris-
tic of all Indian philosophical systems is the concept that the mind or mental
capacity (manas, citta) is part of the body: it is the “sixth sense,” which, located
in the heart, is tethered to the senses of hearing, seeing, tasting, touching, and
smelling, as well as their associated bodily organs. What this means is that
Indian philosophy rejects the mind-body distinction. In doing so, however, it
does embrace another distinction. This is the distinction between the mind-
body complex on the one hand, and a higher cognitive apparatus—called
buddhi (“intellect”), antahkarana, vijñāna (both translatable as “conscious-
ness”), etc.—on the other. In these early sources, the term yoga is often used
to designate the theory and practice of disengaging the higher cognitive ap-
paratus from the thrall of matter, the body, and the senses (including mind).
Yoga is a regimen or discipline that trains the cognitive apparatus to perceive
clearly, which leads to true cognition, which in turn leads to salvation, release
from suffering existence. Yoga is not the sole term for this type of training,
however. In early Buddhist and Jain scriptures as well as many early Hindu
sources, the term dhyāna (jhāna in the Pali of early Buddhist teachings, jhāna
in the Jain Ardhamagadhi vernacular), most commonly translated as “medita-
tion,” is far more frequently employed. So it is that Hindu sources like the
BhG and YS, as well as a number of Buddhist Mahāyāna works, frequently
use yoga, dhyāna, and bhāvanā (“cultivation,” “contemplation”) more or less
synonymously, while early Jain and Buddhist texts employ the term dhyāna in
its various spellings exclusively. Both the YS and the Noble Eightfold Path of
Buddhism also employ the term samādhi (“concentration”) for the culminat-
ing stage of meditation (Sarbacker 2005: 16–21). At this stage, all objects have
been removed from consciousness, which thereafter continues to exist in iso-
8 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
lation (kaivalyam), forever liberated from all entanglements. Kaivalyam is
also employed in Jain soteriology for the final state of the fully purified liber-
ated soul.
The BhG, the philosophical charter of “mainstream” Hindu theism, uses the
term yoga in the broad sense of “discipline” or “path,” and teaches that the
paths of gnosis (jñāna-yoga) and action (karma-yoga) are inferior to the path
of devotion (bhakti-yoga) to an all-powerful and benevolent supreme being.
However, here as well, it is the constant training of the cognitive faculties—to
meditatively concentrate on God in order to accurately perceive Him as the
source of all being and knowledge—that brings about salvation. In this teach-
ing, revealed by none other than the supreme being Krsna himself, the devotee
whose disciplined meditation is focused on God alone is often referred to as a
yogin. The BhG is possibly the first but by no means the last teaching to use
the term yoga preceded by an adjective or modifier (karma-, jñāna-, bhakti-),
thereby acknowledging—but also creating—a variety of yogas.
2. Yoga as the raising and expansion of consciousness. Through analytical in-
quiry and meditative practice, the lower organs or apparatus of human cogni-
tion are suppressed, allowing for higher, less obstructed levels of perception
and cognition to prevail. Here, consciousness-raising on a cognitive level is
seen to be simultaneous with the “physical” rise of the consciousness or self
through ever-higher levels or realms of cosmic space. Reaching the level of
consciousness of a god, for example, is tantamount to rising to that deity’s
cosmological level, to the atmospheric or heavenly world it inhabits. This is a
concept that likely flowed from the experience of the Vedic poets, who, by
“yoking” their minds to poetic inspiration, were empowered to journey to the
farthest reaches of the universe. The physical rise of the dying yoga-yukta char-
iot warrior to the highest cosmic plane may have also contributed to the for-
mulation of this idea.
Another development of this concept is the notion that the expansion of
consciousness is tantamount to the expansion of the self to the point that
one’s body or self becomes coextensive with the entire universe. The 289th
chapter of the twelfth book of the Mahābhārata concludes with a description
of just such an expansion of a yogi’s self [Fitzgerald], and one finds a similar
description in the Jain Umāsvāti’s fourth- to fifth-century Praśamaratipra-
karana. Several Mahāyāna Buddhist sources contain accounts of enlightened
beings whose “constructed bodies” (nirmānakāya) expand to fill the universe;
and the BhG’s description of the god Krsna’s universal body (viśvarūpa),
through which he displays his “masterful yoga,” is of the same order (White
2009: 167–97).
I ntr o d u c ti o n 9
Also in this regard, it should be noted that attention to the breath is a feature
of the theory and practice of meditation from the earliest times. Mindfulness
of one’s breathing is introduced in such early sources as the Majjhima Nikāya
as a fundamental element of Theravāda Buddhist meditation. In early Hindu
sources as well, controlling and stilling the breath is a prime technique for
calming the mind and turning it inward, away from the distractions of sensory
perception. Ātman, the term for the “self ” or “soul” in the classical Upanisads
and later works, is etymologically linked to the Sanskrit verb *an, “breathe,”
and it is via breath channels leading up from the heart—channels that merge
with the rays of the sun—that the self leaves the body at death to merge with
the Absolute (brahman) at the summit of the universe. These descriptions of
the breath channels also lie at the origin of yogic or “subtle” body physiology,
which would become fleshed out in great detail in India’s medieval Tantric
scriptures. In these and later works, the breath-propelled self ’s rise through
the levels of the universe would become completely internalized, with the spi-
nal column doubling as the universal axis mundi and the practitioner’s own
cranial vault becoming the place of the brahman and locus of immortality.
3. Yoga as a path to omniscience. Once it was established that true perception
or true cognition enables a self ’s enhanced or enlightened consciousness to
rise or expand to reach and penetrate distant regions of space—to see and
know things as they truly are beyond the illusory limitations imposed by a
deluded mind and sense perceptions—there were no limits to the places to
which consciousness could go. These “places” included past and future time,
locations distant and hidden, and even places invisible to view. This insight
became the foundation for theorizing the type of extrasensory perception
known as yogi perception (yogipratyaksa), which is in many Indian epistemo-
logical systems the highest of the “true cognitions” (pramānas), in other words,
the supreme and most irrefutable of all possible sources of knowledge. For the
Nyāya-Vaiśesika school, the earliest Hindu philosophical school to fully ana-
lyze this basis for transcendent knowledge, yogi perception is what permitted
the Vedic seers (rsis) to apprehend, in a single panoptical act of perception, the
entirety of the Vedic revelation, which was tantamount to viewing the entire
universe simultaneously, in all its parts. For the Buddhists, it was this that
provided the Buddha and other enlightened beings with the “buddha-eye” or
“divine eye,” which permitted them to see the true nature of reality. For the
early seventh-century Mādhyamaka philosopher Candrakīrti, yogi perception
afforded direct and profound insight into his school’s highest truth, that is,
into the emptiness (śūnyatā) of things and concepts, as well as relationships
between things and concepts (MacDonald 2009: 133–46).
10 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
mained the subject of lively debate among Hindu and Buddhist philosophers
well into the medieval period.
It was a widely held precept among ascetic traditions that extrasensory in-
sight into the ultimate nature of reality, a sort of omniscience, could be at-
tained through meditative practice. Here, there were two schools of thought
concerning the attainment of such insight. The Jains and a number of Hindu
and Buddhist schools asserted that the soul, self, or mind was luminous by
nature and innately possessed of perfect perception and insight, and that the
path to liberation simply comprised the realization of one’s innate qualities
and capacities. Others, including Theravāda and Sarvāstivāda Buddhists,
maintained that the path of asceticism and the practice of meditation were
necessary to purge cognition of its inborn defilements, and that only once this
difficult work had been completed could yogi perception and omniscience
arise (Franco 2009, 4–5). In the former case, meditation was the means to re-
alizing the divine within, one’s innate Buddha nature, to see the universe as
Self, and so forth. In the latter, the resulting extrasensory insight allowed the
ontologically imperfect practitioner to clearly see and truly know a god or
Buddha that nonetheless remained Wholly Other. Through such knowledge
one could, in the parlance of many of the dualist Hindu Tantric schools, “be-
come a god in order to worship god”—but one could never become god,
which is what the non-dualist schools maintained.
4. Yoga as a technique for entering into other bodies, generating multiple bodies,
and the attainment of other supernatural accomplishments. The classical Indian
understanding of everyday perception (pratyaksa) was similar to that of the
ancient Greeks. In both systems, the site at which visual perception occurs is
not the surface of the retina or the junction of the optic nerve with the brain’s
visual nuclei, but rather the contours of the perceived object. This means, for
example, that when I am viewing a tree, a ray of perception emitted from my
eye “con-forms” to the surface of the tree. The ray brings the image of the tree
back to my eye, which communicates it to my mind, which in turn communi-
cates it to my inner self or consciousness. In the case of yogi perception, the
practice of yoga enhances this process (in some cases, establishing an unmedi-
ated connection between consciousness and the perceived object), such that
the viewer not only sees things as they truly are, but is also able to directly see
through the surface of things into their innermost being. For non-Buddhists,
this applies, most importantly, to the perception of one’s own inner self as well
as the selves or souls of others. From here, it is but a short step to conceiving
of the viewer possessed of the power of yogi perception—texts often call him
a yogi—as possessing the power to physically penetrate, with his enhanced
I ntr o d u c ti o n 11
cognitive apparatus, into other people’s bodies (White 2009: 122–66). This is
the theory underlying the Tantric practice of “subtle yoga” described at the
beginning of this introduction. But in fact, the earliest references in all of In-
dian literature to individuals explicitly called yogis are Mahābhārata tales of
Hindu and Buddhist hermits who take over other people’s bodies in just this
way; and it is noteworthy that when yogis enter into other people’s bodies,
they are said to do so through rays emanating from their eyes. The epic also
asserts that a yogi so empowered can take over several thousand bodies simul-
taneously, and “walk the earth with all of them.” Buddhist sources describe the
same phenomenon with the important difference that the enlightened being
creates multiple bodies rather than taking over those belonging to other crea-
tures. This is a notion already elaborated in an early Buddhist work, the Sām-
aññaphalasutta, a teaching contained in the Dīgha Nikāya (the “Longer Say-
ings” of the Buddha), according to which a monk who has completed the four
Buddhist meditations gains, among other things, the power to self-multiply.
Several of the key terms found in this text reappear, with specific reference to
yoga and yogis, in the 100 BCE–200 CE Indian medical classic, the Caraka
Samhitā [Wujastyk].
The ability to enter into and control the bodies of other creatures is but one
of the supernatural powers (iddhis in Pali; siddhis or vibhūtis in Sanskrit) that
arise from the power of extrasensory perception (abhiññā in Pali; abhijñā in
Sanskrit). Others include the power of flight, clairaudience, telepathy, invisi-
bility, and the recollection of past lives—precisely the sorts of powers that the
yogis of Indian legend have been said to possess.
Here, it is helpful to introduce the difference between “yogi practice” and
“yoga practice,” which has been implicit to South Asian thought and practice
since the beginning of the Common Era, the period in which the terms “yogi”
and “yogi perception” first appeared in the Indian scriptural record. On the one
hand, there is “yoga practice,” which essentially denotes a program of mind-
training and meditation issuing in the realization of enlightenment, liberation,
or isolation from the world of suffering existence. Yoga practice is the practical
application of the theoretical precepts of the various yogic soteriologies, epis-
temologies, and gnoseologies presented in analytical works like the YS and the
teachings of the various Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain philosophical schools. Yogi
practice, on the other hand, concerns the supernatural powers that empower
yogis to take over other creatures’ bodies and so forth. Nearly every one of the
earliest narrative descriptions of yogis and their practices underscore the
axiom that the penetration of other bodies is the sine qua non of yoga.
The cleavage between these two more or less incompatible bodies of theory
and practice can be traced back to early Buddhist sources, which speak of a
12 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
rivalry between meditating “experimentalists” (jhāyins) and “speculatives”
(dhammayogas). In medieval Tantra, the same division obtained, this time be-
tween practitioners whose meditative practice led to gnosis and identity with
the divine on the one hand, and on the other, practitioners—referred to as
yogis or sādhakas—whose goal was this-worldly supernatural power in one’s
now invulnerable, ageless, and adamantine human body. The gulf between
yoga practice and yogi practice never ceased to widen over the centuries, such
that, by the time of the British Raj, India’s hordes of yogis were considered by
India’s elites to be little more than common criminals, with their fraudulent
practices—utterly at odds with the “true” science of yoga, which, taught in the
YS, was practiced by none—save perhaps for a handful of isolated hermits liv-
ing high in the Himalayas (Oman 1908: 3–30).
These four sets of concepts and practices form the core and foundational
vocabulary of nearly every yoga tradition, school, or system, with all that fol-
low the fourth- to seventh-century watershed—of the YS and various foun-
dational Buddhist and Jain works on meditation and yogi perception—simply
variations and expansions on this common core.
Medieval Developments
Yoga in the Tantras
The Tantras are pivotal works in the history of yoga, inasmuch as they carry
forward both the yoga and yogi practices and the gnoseological theory of ear-
lier traditions while introducing important innovations in theory and practice.
On the theoretical side, these medieval scriptures and commentarial traditions
promulgate a new variation on the preexisting yoga soteriology. No longer is
the practitioner’s ultimate goal liberation from suffering existence, but rather
self-deification: one becomes the deity that has been one’s object of meditation.
In a universe that is nothing other than the flow of divine consciousness, rais-
ing one’s consciousness to the level of god-consciousness—that is, attaining a
god’s-eye view that sees the universe as internal to one’s own transcendent
Self—is tantamount to becoming divine. A primary means to this end is the
detailed visualization of the deity with which one will ultimately identify: his
or her form, face(s), color, attributes, entourage, and so on. So, for example, in
the yoga of the Hindu Pāñcarātra sect, a practitioner’s meditation on succes-
sive emanations of the god Visnu culminates in his realization of the state of
“consisting in god” (Rastelli 2009: 299–317). The Tantric Buddhist cognate to
this is “deity yoga” (devayoga), whereby the practitioner meditatively assumes
the attributes and creates the environment (i.e., the Buddha world) of the
Buddha-deity he or she is about to become.
I ntr o d u c ti o n 13
In fact, the term yoga has a wide variety of connotations in the Tantras. It
can simply mean “practice” or “discipline” in a very broad sense, covering all of
the means at one’s disposal to realize one’s goals. It can also refer to the goal
itself: “conjunction,” “union,” or identity with divine consciousness. Indeed,
the Mālinīvijayottara Tantra, an important ninth-century Śākta-Śaiva Tantra,
uses the term yoga to denote its entire soteriological system (Vasudeva 2004).
In Buddhist Tantra—whose canonical teachings are divided into the exoteric
Yoga Tantras and the increasingly esoteric Higher Yoga Tantras, Supreme
Yoga Tantras, Unexcelled (or Unsurpassed) Yoga Tantras, and Yoginī Tan-
tras—yoga has the dual sense of both the means and ends of practice. Yoga
can also have the more particular, limited sense of a program of meditation or
visualization, as opposed to ritual (kriyā) or gnostic (jñāna) practice. However,
these categories of practice often bleed into one another. Finally, there are
specific types of yogic discipline, such as the Netra Tantra’s transcendent and
subtle yogas, already discussed.
Indo-Tibetan Buddhist Tantra—and with it, Buddhist Tantric Yoga—de-
veloped in lockstep with Hindu Tantra, with a hierarchy of revelations rang-
ing from earlier, exoteric systems of practice to the sex- and death-laden im-
agery of later esoteric pantheons, in which horrific skull-wielding Buddhas
were surrounded by the same yoginīs as their Hindu counterparts, the Bhaira-
vas of the esoteric Hindu Tantras. In the Buddhist Unexcelled Yoga Tantras,
“six-limbed yoga” comprised the visualization practices that facilitated the re-
alization of one’s innate identity with the deity [Wallace]. But rather than
simply being a means to an end in these traditions, yoga was also primarily an
end in itself: yoga was “union” or identity with the celestial Buddha named
Vajrasattva—the “Diamond Essence (of Enlightenment),” that is, one’s Bud-
dha nature. However, the same Tantras of the Diamond Path (Vajrayāna) also
implied that the innate nature of that union rendered the conventional prac-
tices undertaken for its realization ultimately irrelevant [Dalton].
Here, one can speak of two principal styles of Tantric Yoga, which coincide
with their respective metaphysics. The former, which recurs in the earliest
Tantric traditions, involves exoteric practices: visualization, generally pure
ritual offerings, worship, and the use of mantras. The dualist metaphysics of
these traditions maintains that there is an ontological difference between god
and creature, which can gradually be overcome through concerted effort and
practice. The latter, esoteric, traditions develop out of the former even as they
reject much of exoteric theory and practice. In these systems, esoteric practice,
involving the real or symbolic consumption of forbidden substances and sex-
ual transactions with forbidden partners, is the fast track to self-deification.
However, given the non-dualist metaphysics of esoteric Tantra, which main-
tains that all creatures are innately divine or enlightened, such practices are
14 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
considered ultimately unnecessary. A number of Tantric scriptures and com-
mentaries underscore the complementarity of the exoteric and esoteric ap-
proaches, urging that the yogi’s central task is to balance the two: this is the
position taken, for example, by the Buddhist Mahāsiddha Saraha in his analy-
sis of the doctrines and practices of the Yoginī Tantras [ Jackson].
In the exoteric Tantras, visualization, ritual offerings, worship, and the use
of mantras were the means to the gradual realization of one’s identity with the
absolute. In later, esoteric traditions, however, the expansion of consciousness
to a divine level was instantaneously triggered through the consumption of
forbidden substances: semen, menstrual blood, feces, urine, human flesh, and
the like. Menstrual or uterine blood, which was considered to be the most
powerful among these forbidden substances, could be accessed through sexual
relations with female Tantric consorts. Variously called yoginīs, dākinīs, or
dūtīs, these were ideally low-caste human women who were considered to be
possessed by, or embodiments of, Tantric goddesses. In the case of the yoginīs,
these were the same goddesses as those that ate their victims in the practice of
“transcendent yoga.” Whether by consuming the sexual emissions of these
forbidden women or through the bliss of sexual orgasm with them, Tantric
yogis could “blow their minds” and realize a breakthrough into transcendent
levels of consciousness. Once again, yogic consciousness-raising doubled with
the physical rise of the yogi’s body through space, in this case in the embrace
of the yoginī or dākinī who, as an embodied goddess, was possessed of the
power of flight. It was for this reason that the medieval yoginī temples were
roofless: they were the yoginīs’ landing fields and launching pads (White 2003:
7–13, 204–18).
In many Tantras, such as the eighth-century CE Matangapārameśvarāgama
of the Hindu Śaivasiddhānta school, this visionary ascent became actualized
in the practitioner’s rise through the levels of the universe until, arriving at the
highest void, the supreme deity Sadāśiva conferred his own divine rank upon
him (Sanderson 2006: 205–6). It is in such a context—of a graded hierarchy
of stages or states of consciousness, with corresponding deities, mantras, and
cosmological levels—that the Tantras innovated the construct known as the
“subtle body” or “yogic body.” Here, the practitioner’s body became identified
with the entire universe, such that all of the processes and transformations
occurring to his body in the world were now described as occurring to a world
inside his body. While the breath channels (nādīs) of yogic practice had al-
ready been discussed in the classical Upanisads, it was not until such Tantric
works as the eighth-century Buddhist Hevajra Tantra and Caryāgīti that a
hierarchy of inner energy centers—variously called cakras (“circles,” “wheels”),
padmas (“lotuses”), or pīthas (“mounds”)—were introduced. These early Bud-
I ntr o d u c ti o n 15
dhist sources only mention four such centers aligned along the spinal column,
but in the centuries that follow, Hindu Tantras such as the Kubjikāmata and
Kaulajñānanirnaya would expand that number to five, six, seven, eight, and
more. The so-called classical hierarchy of seven cakras—ranging from the
mūlādhāra at the level of the anus to the sahasrāra in the cranial vault, replete
with color coding, fixed numbers of petals linked to the names of yoginīs, the
graphemes and phonemes of the Sanskrit alphabet—was a still later develop-
ment. So too was the introduction of the kundalinī, the female Serpent En-
ergy coiled at the base of the yogic body, whose awakening and rapid rise ef-
fects the practitioner’s inner transformation (White 2003: 220–34).
Given the wide range of applications of the term yoga in the Tantras,
the semantic field of the term “yogi” is relatively circumscribed. Yogis who
forcefully take over the bodies of other creatures are the villains of countless
medieval accounts, including the tenth- to eleventh-century Kashmirian
Kathāsaritsāgara (“Ocean of Rivers of Story,” which contains the famous Ve-
tālapañcavimśati—the “Twenty-five Tales of the Zombie”) and the Yogavā-
sistha. In the seventh-century farce entitled Bhagavadajjukīya, the “Tale of the
Saint Courtesan,” a yogi who briefly occupies the body of a dead prostitute is
cast as a comic figure. Well into the twentieth century, the term yogi contin-
ued to be used nearly exclusively to refer to a Tantric practitioner who opted
for this-worldly self-aggrandizement over disembodied liberation. Tantric
yogis specialize in esoteric practices, often carried out in cremation grounds,
practices that often verge on black magic and sorcery. Once again, this was,
overwhelmingly, the primary sense of the term “yogi” in pre-modern Indic
traditions: nowhere prior to the seventeenth century do we find it applied to
persons seated in fixed postures, regulating their breath or entering into medi-
tative states.
Hatha Yoga
A new regimen of yoga called the “yoga of forceful exertion” rapidly emerges
as a comprehensive system in the tenth to eleventh century, as evidenced in
works like the Yogavāsistha and the original Goraksa Śataka (“Hundred Verses
of Goraksa”) [Mallinson]. While the famous cakras, nādīs, and kundalinī pre-
date its advent, hatha yoga is entirely innovative in its depiction of the yogic
body as a pneumatic, but also a hydraulic and a thermodynamic system. The
practice of breath control becomes particularly refined in the hathayogic texts,
with elaborate instructions provided concerning the calibrated regulation of
the breaths. In certain sources, the duration of time during which the breath is
held is of primary importance, with lengthened periods of breath stoppage
16 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
corresponding to expanded levels of supernatural power. This science of the
breath had a number of offshoots, including a form of divination based on the
movements of the breath within and outside of the body, an esoteric tradition
that found its way into medieval Tibetan and Persian [Ernst] sources.
In a novel variation on the theme of consciousness-raising-as-internal-
ascent, hatha yoga also represents the yogic body as a sealed hydraulic system
within which vital fluids may be channeled upward as they are refined into
nectar through the heat of asceticism. Here, the semen of the practitioner,
lying inert in the coiled body of the serpentine kundalinī in the lower abdo-
men, becomes heated through the bellows effect of prānāyāma, the repeated
inflation and deflation of the peripheral breath channels. The awakened
kundalinī suddenly straightens and enters into the susumnā, the medial chan-
nel that runs the length of the spinal column up to the cranial vault. Propelled
by the yogi’s heated breaths, the hissing kundalinī serpent shoots upward,
piercing each of the cakras as she rises. With the penetration of each succeed-
ing cakra, vast amounts of heat are released, such that the semen contained in
the kundalinī’s body becomes gradually transmuted. This body of theory and
practice was quickly adopted in both Jain and Buddhist Tantric works. In the
Buddhist case, the cognate of the kundalinī was the fiery avadhūtī or candālī
(“outcaste woman”), whose union with the male principle in the cranial vault
caused the fluid “thought of enlightenment” (bodhicitta) to flood the practitio-
ner’s body.
The cakras of the yogic body are identified in hathayogic sources not only as
so many internalized cremation grounds—both the favorite haunts of the me-
dieval Tantric yogis, and those sites on which a burning fire releases the self
from the body before hurling it skyward—but also as “circles” of dancing,
howling, high-flying yoginīs whose flight is fueled, precisely, by their ingestion
of male semen. When the kundalinī reaches the end of her rise and bursts into
the cranial vault, the semen that she has been carrying has been transformed
into the nectar of immortality, which the yogi then drinks internally from the
bowl of his own skull. With it, he becomes an immortal, invulnerable, being
possessed of supernatural powers, a god on earth.
Without a doubt, hatha yoga both synthesizes and internalizes many of the
elements of earlier yoga systems: meditative ascent, upward mobility via the
flight of the yoginī (now replaced by the kundalinī), and a number of esoteric
Tantric practices. It is also probable that the thermodynamic transformations
internal to Hindu alchemy, the essential texts of which predate the hatha yoga
canon by at least a century, also provided a set of theoretical models for the
new system (White 1996).
With respect to modern-day postural yoga, hatha yoga’s greatest legacy is to
I ntr o d u c ti o n 17
be found in the combination of fixed postures (āsanas), breath control tech-
niques (prānāyāma), locks (bandhas), and seals (mudrās) that comprise its
practical side. These are the practices that isolate the inner yogic body from
the outside, such that it becomes a hermetically sealed system within which
air and fluids can be drawn upward, against their normal downward flow.
These techniques are described in increasing detail between the tenth and
fifteenth centuries, the period of the flowering of the hatha yoga corpus. In
later centuries, a canonical number of eighty-four āsanas would be reached
(Bühnemann 2007).
Often, the practice system of hatha yoga is referred to as “six-limbed” yoga,
as a means of distinguishing it from the “eight-limbed” practice of the YS.
What the two systems generally share in common with one another—as well
as with the yoga systems of the late classical Upanisads, the later Yoga Upa-
nisads, and every Buddhist yoga system—are posture, breath control, and the
three levels of meditative concentration leading to samādhi. In the YS, these
six practices are preceded by behavioral restraints and purificatory ritual ob-
servances (yama and niyama). The Jain yoga systems of both the eighth-
century Haribhadra and the tenth- to thirteenth-century Digambara Jain
monk Rāmasena are also eight-limbed [Dundas]. By the time of the fifteenth-
century CE Hathayogapradīpikā (also known as the Hathapradīpikā) of
Svātmarāman, this distinction had become codified under a different set of
terms: hatha yoga, which comprised the practices leading to liberation in the
body (jīvanmukti) was made to be the inferior stepsister of rāja yoga, the
meditative techniques that culminate in the cessation of suffering through
disembodied liberation (videha mukti). These categories could, however, be
subverted, as a remarkable albeit idiosyncratic eighteenth-century Tantric
document makes abundantly clear [Vasudeva].
Here, it should be noted that prior to the end of the first millennium CE,
detailed descriptions of āsanas were nowhere to be found in the Indian textual
record. In the light of this, any claim that sculpted images of cross-legged
figures—including those represented on the famous clay seals from third mil-
lennium BCE Indus Valley archeological sites—represent yogic postures are
speculative at best (White 2009: 48–59).
The Nāth Yogīs
All of the earliest Sanskrit-language works on hatha yoga are attributed to
Gorakhnāth, the twelfth- to thirteenth-century founder of the religious order
known as the Nāth Yogīs, Nāth Siddhas, or simply, the yogis. The Nāth Yogīs
were and remain the sole South Asian order to self-identify as yogis, which
18 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
makes perfect sense given their explicit agenda of bodily immortality, invul-
nerability, and the attainment of supernatural powers. While little is known of
the life of this founder and innovator, Gorakhnāth’s prestige was such that an
important number of seminal hatha yoga works, many of which postdated the
historical Gorakhnāth by several centuries, named him as their author in order
to lend them a cachet of authenticity. In addition to these Sanskrit-language
guides to the practice of hatha yoga, Gorakhnāth and several of his disciples
were also the putative authors of a rich treasury of mystic poetry, written in the
vernacular language of twelfth- to fourteenth-century northwest India. These
poems contain particularly vivid descriptions of the yogic body, identifying its
inner landscapes with the principal mountains, river systems, and other land-
forms of the Indian subcontinent as well as with the imagined worlds of me-
dieval Indic cosmology. This legacy would be carried forward in the later Yoga
Upanisads as well as in the mystic poetry of the late medieval Tantric revival
of the eastern region of Bengal [Hayes]. It also survives in popular traditions
of rural north India, where the esoteric teachings of yogi gurus of yore con-
tinue to be sung by modern-day yogi bards in all-night village gatherings
[Gold and Gold].
Given their reputed supernatural powers, the Tantric yogis of medieval ad-
venture and fantasy literature were often cast as rivals to princes and kings
whose thrones and harems they tried to usurp. In the case of the Nāth Yogīs,
these relationships were real and documented, with members of their order
celebrated in a number of kingdoms across northern and western India for
having brought down tyrants and raised untested princes to the throne. These
feats are also chronicled in late medieval Nāth Yogī hagiographies and legend
cycles, which feature princes who abandon the royal life to take initiation with
illustrious gurus, and yogis who use their remarkable supernatural powers for
the benefit (or to the detriment) of kings. All of the great Mughal emperors
had interactions with the Nāth Yogīs, including Aurangzeb, who appealed to
a yogi abbot for an alchemical aphrodisiac; Shāh Alam II, whose fall from
power was foretold by a naked yogi; and the illustrious Akbar, whose fascina-
tion and political savvy brought him into contact with Nāth Yogīs on several
occasions [Pinch].
While it is often difficult to separate fact from fiction in the case of the
Nāth Yogīs, there can be no doubt but that they were powerful figures who
provoked powerful reactions on the part of the humble and mighty alike. At
the height of their power between the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries,
they appeared frequently in the writings of north Indian poet-saints (sants)
like Kabīr and Guru Nānak, who generally castigated them for their arro-
gance and obsession with worldly power. The Nāth Yogīs were among the first
I ntr o d u c ti o n 19
religious orders to militarize into fighting units, a practice that became so
commonplace that by the eighteenth century the north Indian military labor
market was dominated by “yogi” warriors who numbered in the hundreds of
thousands (Pinch 2006)! It was not until the late eighteenth century, when
the British quashed the so-called Sannyasi and Fakir Rebellion in Bengal,
that the widespread phenomenon of the yogi warrior began to disappear from
the Indian subcontinent.
Like the Sufi fakirs with whom they were often associated, the yogis were
widely considered by India’s rural peasantry to be superhuman allies who
could protect them from the supernatural entities responsible for disease,
famine, misfortune, and death. Yet, the same yogis have long been dreaded
and feared for the havoc they are capable of wreaking on persons weaker than
themselves. Even to the present day in rural India and Nepal, parents will
scold naughty children by threatening them that “the yogi will come and take
them away.” There may be a historical basis to this threat: well into the mod-
ern period, poverty-stricken villagers sold their children into the yogi orders
as an acceptable alternative to death by starvation.
The Yoga Upanisads
The Yoga Upanisads [Ruff ] are a collection of twenty-one medieval Indian
reinterpretations of the so-called classical Upanisads, that is, works like the
Kathaka Upanisad, quoted earlier. Their content is devoted to metaphysical
correspondences between the universal macrocosm and bodily microcosm,
meditation, mantra, and techniques of yogic practice. While it is the case that
their content is quite entirely derivative of Tantric and Nāth Yogī traditions,
their originality lies in their Vedānta-style non-dualist metaphysics (Bouy
1994). The earliest works of this corpus, devoted to meditation upon mantras--
especially OM, the acoustic essence of the absolute brahman—were compiled
in north India some time between the ninth and thirteenth centuries. Between
the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries, south Indian brahmins greatly ex-
panded these works—folding into them a wealth of data from the Hindu Tan-
tras as well as the hatha yoga traditions of the Nāth Yogīs, including the
kundalinī, the yogic āsanas, and the internal geography of the yogic body. So it
is that many of the Yoga Upanisads exist both in short “northern” and longer
“southern” versions. Far to the north, in Nepal, one finds the same influences
and philosophical orientations in the Vairāgyāmvara, a work on yoga com-
posed by the eighteenth-century founder of the Josmanī sect. In some respects,
its author Śaśidhara’s political and social activism anticipated the agendas of
the nineteenth-century Indian founders of modern yoga [Timilsina].
20 D a v i d G o r d o n W hite
Modern Yoga
In Calcutta, colonial India’s most important center of intellectual life, the late
nineteenth century saw the emergence of a new “holy man” style among lead-
ers of the Indian reform and independence movement. A prime catalyst for
this shift was the 1882 publication of Bankim Chandra Chatterji’s powerful
and controversial Bengali novel Ānandamath (Lipner 2005), which drew par-
allels between the Sannyasi and Fakir Rebellion and the cause of Indian inde-
pendence. In the years and decades that followed, numerous (mainly Bengali)
reformers shed their Western-style clothing to put on the saffron robes of
Indian holy men. These included, most notably, Swami Vivekananda, the In-
dian founder of “modern yoga” (De Michelis 2004: 91–180); and Sri Au-
robindo, who was jailed by the British for plotting a sannyāsī revolt against the
Empire but who devoted the latter part of his life to yoga, founding his famous
āśram in Pondicherry in 1926. While the other leading yoga gurus of the first
half of the twentieth century had no reform or political agenda, they left their
mark by carrying the gospel of modern yoga to the west. These include Para-
mahamsa Yogananda, the author of the perennial best-selling 1946 publica-
tion, Autobiography of a Yogi; Sivananda, who was for a short time the guru of
the pioneering yoga scholar and historian of religions Mircea Eliade; Kuvalay-
ananda, who focused on the modern scientific and medical benefits of yoga
practice (Alter 2004: 73–108); Hariharananda Aranya, the founder of the Kap-
ila Matha [ Jacobsen]; and Krishnamacharya [Singleton, Narasimhan, and
Jayashree], the guru of the three hatha yoga masters most responsible for popu-
larizing postural yoga throughout the world in the late twentieth century.
Vivekananda’s rehabilitation of what he termed “rāja yoga” is exemplary, for
its motives, its influences, and its content. A shrewd culture broker seeking a
way to turn his countrymen away from practices he termed “kitchen religion,”
Vivekananda seized upon the symbolic power of yoga as a genuinely Indian,
yet non-sectarian, type of applied philosophy that could be wielded as a “uni-
fying sign of the Indian nation . . . not only for national consumption but for
consumption by the entire world” (Van der Veer 2001: 73–74). For Vive-
kananda, rāja yoga, or “classical yoga,” was the science of yoga taught in theYoga
Sūtra, a notion he took from none other than the Theosophist Madame Bla-
vatsky, who had a strong Indian following in the late nineteenth century. Fol-
lowing his success in introducing rāja yoga to western audiences at the 1892
World Parliament of Religions at Chicago, Vivekananda remained in the
United States for much of the next decade (he died in 1902), lecturing and
writing on the YS. His quite idiosyncratic interpretations of this work were
I ntr o d u c ti o n 21
highly congenial to the religiosity of the period, which found expression in
India mainly through the rationalist spirituality of Neo-Vedānta. So it was
that Vivekananda defined rāja yoga as the supreme contemplative path to self-
realization, in which the self so realized was the supreme self, the absolute
brahman or god-self within.
While Vivekananda’s influence on present-day understandings of yoga the-
ory is incalculable, his disdain for the means and ends of hatha yoga practice
were such that that form of yoga—the principal traditional source of modern
postural yoga—was slow to be embraced by the modern world. It should be
noted here that within India, the tradition of hatha yoga had been all but lost,
and that it was not until the publication of a number of editions of late hatha
yoga texts, by the Theosophical Society and others, that interest in it was re-
kindled. Indeed, none other than the great Krishnamacharya himself went to
Tibet in search of true practitioners of a tradition he considered lost in India
(Kadetsky 2004: 76–79). One of the earliest American practitioners to study
yoga under Indian teachers and later attempt to market the teachings of hatha
yoga in the west, Theos Bernard died in Tibet in the 1930s while searching
there for the yogic “grail” [Hackett].
Whatever Krishnamacharya found in his journey to Tibet, the yoga that he
taught in his role of “yoga master” of the Mysore Palace was an eclectic amal-
gam of hatha yoga techniques, British military calisthenics, and the regional
gymnastic and wrestling traditions of southwestern India (Sjoman 1996). Be-
ginning in the 1950s, his three leading disciples—B. K. S. Iyengar, K. Pattabhi
Jois, and T.K.V. Desikachar—would introduce their own variations on his
techniques and so define the postural yoga that has swept Europe, the United
States, and much of the rest of the world. The direct and indirect disciples of
these three innovators form the vanguard of yoga teachers on the contempo-
rary scene. The impact of these innovators of yoga, with their eclectic blend of
training in postures with teachings from the YS, also had the secondary effect
of catalyzing a reform within the Śvetāmbara Jain community, opening the
door to the emergence of a universalistic and missionary yoga-based Jainism
in the United Kingdom in particular [Qvarnström and Birch].
In the course of the past thirty years, yoga has been transformed more than
at any time since the advent of hatha yoga in the tenth to eleventh centuries
(Syman 2010). The theoretical pairing of yoga with mind-expanding drugs,
the practice of “cakra adjustment,” the use of crystals: these are but a few of
the entirely original improvisations on a four-thousand-year-old theme,
which have been invented outside of India during the past decades. Aware of
this appropriation of what it rightly considers to be its own cultural legacy,
Indians have begun to take steps to safeguard their yoga traditions.