The Yoga Tradition

by Georg Feuerstein

  Upon the death of his father, Bhârata refused the throne and went in search of his exiled brothers. Râma, however, was intent on honoring his banishment. Instead of returning to the kingdom, he went into battle against the demons that disturbed and terrified the renouncers and sages of the forest. Râma killed thousands of demon hosts, and the chief demon, Râvana, revenged their death by abducting beautiful Sîtâ. With the help of the monkey leader Hanumat (better known by the nominative Hanumân),4 and after many adventures, Râma managed to slay Râvana and free his wife, who had been held captive on the island of Lankâ (modern Sri Lankâ, Ceylon).

  The question of whether Sîtâ had been defiled by the demon ruler arose. Although she swore to her innocence, she failed to erase all doubt from her husband’s mind. In the end, she insisted that Râma let the Divine decide her fate. She entered the blazing fire of a pyre that had been lighted to test her. To everyone’s amazement, the flames did not singe a single hair on Sîtâ’s body. Râma realized his mistake and was happy to be reunited with his brave and faithful wife. By then his exile had come to an end, and they all returned to the capital, where Râma was jubilantly welcomed.

  The citizens of the capital were unconvinced of Sîtâ’s innocence, however, and under public pressure Râma banished his beloved wife, ignorant of the fact that she was pregnant. While living in the remote forest hermitage of Sage Vâlmîki, Sîtâ gave birth to twin sons, Lava and Kusha. Vâlmîki composed the Râmâyana and taught the two children to sing the text for posterity. Râma was shocked to discover that the boys were his own children and felt great remorse at the hardship he had caused his wife. A dignified Sîtâ appeared before the assembled guests at the palace and invoked Mother Earth as witness of her purity. Promptly the ground opened up and brought forth a golden throne on which Sîtâ disappeared into the bowels of the earth. Disconsolate at the renewed loss of his beloved and faithful spouse, Râma renounced his kingdom and returned to the realm of the Gods. For the Hindus, Râma became a symbol of renunciation, equanimity, and self- discipline, whereas Sîtâ stands for the principle of womanly purity and marital fidelity.

  The spirituality of the Râmâyana is quite archaic and reflects more the orientation of asceticism (tapas) than that of Yoga, the distinction between these two approaches having been made clear in Chapter 3. Râma is portrayed as wandering through enchanted forests inhabited by sages who, because of their fierce austerities, came into possession of magical powers and weapons, which they put at Râma’s disposal in order to fight hosts of demons and monsters.

  The Râmâyana introduces Râma as an incarnation of God Vishnu. At the time of the composition of the Rig-Veda, Vishnu was still a minor deity, but he later served as the focal point for the religious imagination and spiritual needs of a rapidly growing community of worshipers. In the Post-Vedic Era, he became the great rival of God Shiva, another minor Vedic deity who won immense popularity in later centuries. Together with God Brahma of mainline Brahmanism, Vishnu and Shiva came to form the well-known trinity (tri-mûrti) of popular Hinduism. Here Brahma functions as the creator, Vishnu as the preserver, and Shiva as the destroyer of the universe.

  Because of his benign qualities, lovingly characterized in countless popular works, Vishnu is easily the most accessible of the three aspects of the Hindu trinity. His most striking features are his incarnations (avatâra), which took place in different world ages. Of his ten principal incarnations, only four were human; the others were magical animals. Vishnu’s two most important human incarnations were those of Râma and Krishna.

  Hindu tradition regards Râma, or Râmacandra (“Moonlike Râma”), as having lived prior to Krishna, who served as Prince Arjuna’s teacher. If we place the Bhârata war around 1450 B.C.E., Râma must have lived around 2050 B.C.E., which corresponds to the first dynasty of pharaonic Egypt. Over time, a religious community sprang up that made Râma its object of worship. Râma’s devotees have created several Upanishads, including the Râma-Pûrva-Tapanîya and the Râma- Uttara-Tapanîya mentioned earlier. Their central theological tenet is “Râma alone is the supreme Absolute, Râma alone is the supreme Reality, Shrî Râma is the saving Absolute.” According to the former Upanishad (1.6), Râma’s name is derived, among other things, from the fact that yogins delight (ramante) in him. Another great creation by a member of the Râma community is the Yoga-Vâsishtha-Râmâyana, which is treated in Chapter 14. This mammoth work supplies what is missing in the original Râmâyana epic, namely the whole yogic dimension. It portrays Râma as a renounc- er who is discovering the truth behind the nondualist teachings of Vedânta.

  The significance of the Râmâyana for the student of Yoga lies in the moral values it promulgates so vividly. We can regard it as a consummate treatise, in narrative form, on what are known in Yoga as the moral disciplines (yama) and restraints (niyama). It extols virtues like righteousness (dharma), nonharming, truthfulness, and penance. As such the Râmâyana can serve as a textbook for Karma-Yoga, the Yoga of self-transcending action. However, like the Upanishads, the Râmâyana favors wisdom (vidyâ) rather than action as the ultimate means to Self-realization. This gospel is vigorously enunciated in the Râma-Gîtâ (“Râma’s Song”), which is a sixty-two- verse-long passage from the latter part of the Râmâyana, but which also circulates as an independent work, as does the Bhagavad-Gîtâ, which is an integral part of the Mahâbhârata epic. Thus in the Râma-Gîtâ, Mahâdeva (Shiva) instructs his divine spouse Umâ as follows:

  Hence the well-intentioned (sudhî) [sage] should abandon activity entirely. The combination [of wisdom and action] is not possible because [action] is contrary to wisdom. Always intent on the contemplation (anu- samdhâna) of the Self, [the sage who practices discipline] relative to the function of all pacified senses is always intent on the contemplation of the Self. (16)

  As long as the idea of a self (âtman) is, due to illusion (mâyâ), [projected] upon the body and so forth, so long must the rites [prescribed by] law be observed. Once the supreme Self has been known by the [sacred] utterance, “[The Self is] not thus (neti),” and having negated everything [that is finite], then [the yog in] should abandon action. (17)

  III. IMMORTALITY ON THE BATTLE FIELD— THE MAHBHRATA EPIC

  The Mahâbhârata is a magnificent and invaluable treasure house of mythology, religion, philosophy, ethics, customs, and information about clans, kings, and sages throughout the ages. Not surprisingly, it acquired the title “Fifth Veda” or “Krishna’s Veda.” It is the grand epic of India, composed of about 100,000 stanzas (200,000 lines of primarily sixteen syllables each), which makes the Mahâbhârata seven times longer than the Iliad and the Odyssey combined. However, the critical edition of the epic, undertaken in the years 1933 to 1972 and consisting of nineteen volumes (plus six volumes of indexes), has only about 75,000 stanzas. In the epic’s opening chapter, it is stated that the original work consisted of 24,000 verses that were subsequently expanded into approximately 600,000 verses. If true, only a sixth of its former verses have survived. Some scholars believe that the original epic consisted of only 8,800 verses, but such estimates—involving hypothetical reconstructions of the so-called Urtext—are hardly convincing.

  The Mahâbhârata was definitely composed over many generations, and the final redaction of this work appears to have been made some time in the second or third century C.E., which is when the Hari-Vamsha (“Hari’s Genealogy”) was appended. The kernel of this gargantuan epic, however, easily goes back to the time after the Bhârata war, whose date is unknown. According to the inherited scholarly chronology of the nineteenth century, this eighteen-day war was fought around 600-500 B.C.E., which is clearly incorrect. Some modern researchers have therefore proposed 1450 B.C.E. as a possible date, which apparently matches the recent archaeological data for the submerged city of Dvârakâ, described in the epic as Lord Krishna’s residence. Traditional Hindu authorities, again, assign the war to around 3100 B.C.E., which is just prior to the beginning of the kali-yuga, but there are di
fficulties with both these dates. A conceivable compromise would place this work around 2000 B.C.E., which is based on the revised age of the Brâhmana literature.

  The epic consists of eighteen books (parvan), to which, as mentioned above, the largely mythological account of Krishna’s birth and youth—the Hari-Vamsha—was joined in the early post-Christian period. The number “18” occurs often in the epic and clearly has symbolic significance.5 The narrative nucleus of the epic is the war between two old tribal kingdoms— the Pândavas (Pându’s lineage) and the Kauravas (Kuru’s lineage, ruled by Dhritarâshtra, the blind older brother of Pându). The compilation of the Mahâbhârata is attributed to the sage Krishna Dvaipâyana (“Krishna who dwells on the island”), called Vyâsa. The word vyâsa simply means “arranger,” and no doubt was applied to a whole line of compilers. Tradition remembers Vyâsa, the individual, also as the compiler of the Vedas and the Purânas—a task exceeding the capacity of any single human being, especially since these literary genres arose over many centuries. The Bhagavad-Gîtâ (18.75), which is embedded in the epic, states that its existence is due to Vyâsa’s grace. Thus it appears that early on the title was associated with a specific individual who was a renowned sage.

  According to the epic saga, Prince Yudhishthira, one of the five sons of King Pându, lost the Pândavas’s share in the kingdom, as well as his wife Draupadî, by a foul trick in a fateful game of dice—a favorite pastime since the ancient Vedic days. He and his four brothers, including Prince Arjuna (the hero of the Bhagavad- Gîtâ), were banished as a result. At the end of their thirteen-year exile, the five virtuous sons of Pându demanded the restoration of their paternal share in the kingdom, which was now ruled solely by King Dhritarâshtra and his hundred sons, notably the power- hungry Duryodhana. When their lawful claim was dismissed, they went to war against the Kauravas. On the side of the Pândavas was the God-man Krishna who, though officially a noncombatant, used various divine ploys and trickery to assist the good cause of King Pându’s sons. The Kauravas, though they were far more numerous, were defeated after eighteen days of the fiercest battles.

  Whatever the historical realities may have been, the Mahâbhârata also lends itself to symbolic and allegorical interpretations. Thus, the strife between the Pândava and Kaurava cousins has often been understood as the struggle between good and evil, right and wrong, in the world and in the human heart. Beyond this, the Mahâbhârata puts forward a mystical point of view according to which there is an unsurpassable Condition that transcends both good and evil, right and wrong. That condition is celebrated as the highest value to which human beings can aspire. It is synonymous with freedom and immortality.

  Around the epic war story, layer upon layer of instructional and legendary materials—comprising no less than four-fifths of the entire epic—have been woven over the centuries. Some scholars regard the famous Bhagavad-Gîtâ, found in the sixth book of the Mahâbhârata, as one of these additions. However, it is just as conceivable that the teachings of the Gîtâ were actually given in brief on the morrow of the first battle and then were elaborated on subsequently. Another expansion of the original text that is very important for our understanding of that phase in the evolution of Yoga is the Moksha-Dharma, which can be found in the twelfth book. In the fourteenth book of the epic, the Anu-Gîtâ stands out as a didactic poem. I will discuss these texts in the following sections.

  For Hindus, the Mahâbhârata epic is a rich mine of instructive and delightful tales about heroes, rogues, renouncers, and yogins. For the historian of religion, it is a mosaic of ideas, beliefs, and customs of one of the most fertile eras in the intellectual history of Hinduism. The contemporary student of Yoga can fruitfully approach the epic from both these perspectives and also ponder the epic’s deep symbolism.

  Yoga and its cousin Sâmkhya loom large in the philosophy of the epic. As we have seen, both traditions have their roots in the pre-Buddhist era. The Yoga and Sâmkhya schools mentioned in the epic, however, appear to be post-Buddhist and thus can be placed in the centuries from 500 B.C.E. to 200 C.E.

  IV. THE BHAGAVAD-GÎT—JEWEL OF THE MAHBHRATA

  The Bhagavad-Gîtâ (“Lord’s Song”) is the earliest extant document of Vaishnavism, the religious tradition centering on the worship of the Divine in the form of Vishnu, specifically in his incarnation as Krishna. This tradition, which has its roots in the Vedic Age, flourished in the sixth century B.C.E. in the region of modern Mathura and from there spread to other parts of the Indian peninsula. Today Vaishnavism is one of the five great religious traditions of India, the other four being Shaivism (focusing on Shiva), Shaktism (focusing on Shakti, the female power aspect of the Divine), the Ganapatyas (focusing on the elephant-headed deity Ganesha or Ganapati), and the Sauras (focusing on the solar deity Sûrya).

  The Bhagavad-Gîtâ, or simply Gîtâ (“Song”), is an episode of the Mahâbhârata, forming chapters 13-40 of the sixth book and comprising a total of 700 verses. A recension of the Gîtâ discovered in Kashmir contains 714 stanzas. But there also is a Balinese version of the Gîtâ that has only 86 stanzas, and a manuscript found in Farrukhabad has only 84 stanzas. Not a few scholars have argued that the Gîtâ was originally an independent text that was later incorporated into the epic. Others rightly have pointed to the seemingly flawless continuity between the Gîtâ and the rest of the Mahâbhârata. Perceiving certain inconsistencies and incongruities in the transmitted text, some scholars have tried to reconstruct the original. Thus the German scholar Richard Garbe ended up with a text comprising 630 verses, while his student Rudolf Otto was left with a mere 133 verses.6 The American Yoga researcher Phulgenda Sinha believes he has identified the 84 stanzas of the original Gîtâ, largely by deleting all verses referring to what he considers to be religious dogma.7

  The date of the Gîtâ is uncertain. It is generally placed in the third century B.C.E., though some scholars assign an earlier date to it, and others wrongly regard it as a post-Christian work. I accept the conclusions of the Indian scholar K. N. Upadhyâya, who, after examining all the various arguments in some depth, placed the Gîtâ in the period from the fifth to the fourth century B.C.E.8 However, verses were probably added at different periods, although it seems doubtful that they can be identified with any degree of certainty. The original “Song,” of course, was probably imparted by Krishna on the battlefield of kuru-kshetra two millennia before the Buddha.

  What is certain is that the Gîtâ has enjoyed enormous popularity among Hindus for countless generations. This popularity is epitomized in the words of Mahatma Gandhi, who said: “I find a solace in the Bhagavadgîtâ that I miss even in the Sermon on the Mount … I owe it all to the teachings of the Bhagavadgîtâ.”9 The Gîtâ, which has been available in English translation since 1785 (in a rendering by Charles Wilkins), also has inspired many well-known Westerners, including the philosophers Georg Friedrich Hegel, Arthur Schopenhauer, and Johann Gottfried Herder; indologist-philosopher Paul Deussen; and philosopher-traveler Hermann von Keyserling; the linguist Wilhelm von Humboldt; the writers Walt Whitman, Aldous Huxley, and Christopher Isherwood; as well as the esotericists Rudolf Steiner (founder of Anthroposophy) and Annie Besant (a leader of the Theosophical Society). The German Sanskritist and pioneering Yoga researcher J. W. Hauer summed up the sentiment of many of these personalities when he wrote:

  The Gîtâ gives us not only profound insights that are valid for all times and for all religious life … Here spirit is at work that belongs to our spirit.10

  The Bhagavad-Gîtâ is a dialogue between the incarnate God Krishna and his pupil Prince Arjuna, which took place on the Kuru’s battlefield (kurukshetra), located in the Gangetic plain around modern Delhi. This immortal conversation is the climax of the epic story. Its importance for the student of Yoga is obvious, since it must be regarded as the first full-fledged Yoga scripture. Indeed, the Gîtâ speaks of itself as a yoga-shâstra, or yogic teaching, restating ancient truths.

  Historically speaking, the Bhagavad-
Gîtâ can be understood as a massive effort to integrate the diverse strands of spiritual thought prevalent within Hinduism in the Epic Age. It mediates between the sacrificial ritualism of the orthodox priesthood and such innovative teachings as we have encountered in the esoteric doctrines of the early Upanishads, as well as in the traditions of Buddhism and Jainism. Aldous Huxley, in his introduction to the Gîtâ rendering by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood, called this ancient work “perhaps the most systematic statement of the Perennial Philosophy.”11

  The Mystical Activism of the Gîtâ

  The central message of Lord Krishna’s Song is the balancing of conventional religious and ethical activity and otherworldly ascetic goals. The gist of Krishna’s activist teaching is given in the following stanza:

  Steadfast in Yoga perform actions, abandoning attachment and remaining the same in success and failure, O Dhanamjaya.12 Yoga is called “evenness” (samatva). (2.48)

  In order to win peace and enlightenment—so Krishna declares—one need not forsake the world or one’s responsibilities, even when they oblige one to go into battle. Renunciation (samnyâsa) of action is good in itself, but better still is renunciation in action. This is the Hindu ideal of “actionless action” or inaction in action (naishkarmya-karman), which is the basis of Karma- Yoga. Life in the world and spiritual life are not in principle inimical to each other; they can and should be cultivated simultaneously. Such is the essence of a whole or integrated life.

  Not by abstention from actions does a man enjoy action-transcendence (naishkarmya), nor by renunciation alone does he approach perfection (siddhi).