It is well accepted by now that the world of yoga is undergoing change—a "paradigm shift" as posited by many—in terms of narrative, pedagogy, safety, supply and demand, to name but a few shifts. This is only natural, as the history of yoga is rediscovered in the sense of being first contextualized as well as "factualized" through painstaking research. That is, we are moving away from establishing authority (of what yoga is or the true and authentic way to practice) "by means of hagiography and the editorializing of memory" (Singleton, 2010; e-loc 238).
We are on a yoga truth train, probably mid-journey or so, slowly but surely wriggling out of the skin of what I feel has been a nationalistic model of historical presentation to a more fluid, evolving and expanding model of belonging.
Over the last few years, I have slowly but steadily learned that a lot of what I was taught in history class as a young Bulgarian child and student has been at best romantically exaggerated and embellished, usually creatively interpreted, and plainly untrue and made up at worst. A recent two-part article by Ivan D. Stoyanov (available through librev.com and in Bulgarian only) provides a fascinating perspective on one of the most revered periods in the individual and collective Bulgarian psyche: our Vuzrazhdane (Revival or Renaissance) period (roughly 18th century until 1878), which is popularly presented as the period in which the Bulgarian people organically initiated the process of self-determination and national identification in the face of the Ottoman oppressor, which culminated with the liberation of Bulgaria from Ottoman/Turkish yoke (with the help of the "bratushki," i.e. Russia) and established the modern Bulgarian nation-state.
Officially, the Vuzrazhdane period is the history of the (re)birthing and becoming of the Bulgarian nation. The root of the word, razhdane, means birth. The prefix vuz- means either to do something again or to do something that leads to a result. One can say that the Vuzrazhdane period is ontological to what it means to be a Bulgarian.
Instead, Stoyanov argues that nationalism in Bulgaria and elsewhere was championed by newly emergent local capitalist elites/classes as a revolt or emancipation against the feudal framework of their societies. It was a quest for more economic, political and educational rights; that is, it was class struggle, not national struggle. Nationalism proved a great tool—a convenient "us" versus "them" framework complete with territorial claims—for these new elites to gain political capital, influence and power, especially when employed over masses of population characterized by low literacy rates, lack of socioeconomic development, and a largely survivalist way of life.
The ideology of nationalism and the nation-state is intimately dependent on how history is taught and narrated for mass consumption, especially to a young, impressionable and malleable population (children and young adults), primarily relying on an external enemy and constantly instilling a sense of superiority over and hate toward that enemy (whether concrete or more diffuse) in order to promote social cohesion at home and raise willing soldiers for the inevitable future aggressions or injustices against the nation-state.
As such, history exists in at least two forms: one for a small circle of professional scholar-historians and amateur enthusiasts and the other for the masses. The latter version is a lot more entertaining, often based on single or multiple personality cults, which are cultivated to mesmerize (or dumb down, some might say) the masses. This model of mythologized historical presentation for mass consumption has become clearly outdated and no longer serves the needs of the Bulgarian people and their society.
Similarly, the 21st century has seen scholarly research on yoga starting to seep into and inform the knowledge and practice of contemporary committed practitioners. Mark Singleton (2010), in Yoga Body, documents the quite recent (as opposed to ancient) origins of modern postural yoga practice, despite that fact that "factionalism and vested interests in the management of memory are still alive and well in the realm of modern yoga" (e-loc 236).
A lot of the historical narrative of 20th century yoga was based on creative interpretation of historical fact and some fantastical storytelling, often centered around gurus or charismatic leaders, feeling at times like a convenient ideology, like nationalism.
David Gordon White (2014) in his recent Yoga Sutra of Patanjali: A biography writes about the "strange case" of T. M. Krishnamacharya, the father of modern postural yoga, with regards to his ever-evolving biography: "As his biographers note, the salient facts of Krishnamacharya's life are known through eleven pages of autobiographical notes written by him near the end of his life, as well as from their own accounts of his reminiscences and teachings to them. It is therefore curious that these facts have changed with each new biography: what one in fact sees in these books is a process of legacy building, of transforming an innovator of postural yoga into a 'universal man' of Yoga," which Krishnamacharya became "through his 'genealogical bloodline' and three types of training: direct revelation, a conventional academic education, and discipleship under a trans-Himalayan master" (pp. 197-8). White goes on to politely call into question all of these claims and to show that modern yoga's ontology (widely promoted as the marriage of postural practice and study of the Yoga Sutra) had much to do with nascent Indian nationalism and its quest for independence from the British, and was heavily influenced by "modern body culture techniques developed in the West and the various discourses of 'modern' Hindu yoga that emerged from the time of Vivekananda onward" (Singleton, 2010; e-loc 142).
This foundation further crystallized into various yoga styles/schools/methods which can be thought of as yoga nation-states. One could say that we have (or had in some cases) the yoga nation-state of Iyengar, Anusara, Bikram, Ashtanga, Forrest, Jivamukti, etc., with a proliferation of countless tiny yoga nation-states usually called [insert name here]yoga.com or heavily affiliated and loyal to one of the big ones. Relations between the big yoga nation-states are/were not necessarily warring but they can certainly be characterized as uneasy, contemptuous, cool, disparaging and smirking. As with nationalism, cohesion and belonging was based on different styles proclaiming to be the best or the most, such as Anusara's former claim of being the most elegant method of alignment, for example.
Being the most implies that there is something or someone less, that there is superior and inferior, very similar to nationalism. All this has been usually addressed through the it's-all-good model of thinking, claiming that the superior-inferior language was not just a good old comparison (or negative advertising) but ultimately an expression of oneness such as "Truth is one, paths are many."
The 21st century has seen the democratization of historical knowledge and the questioning of nationalism (and capitalism) as useful (or unquestioned) ideologies of belonging and functioning, albeit very unevenly and subject to debate. But there are currents and they are felt.
Group affiliation and acceptance is a fundamental human need. The paradigm shift in the world of yoga that we are a part of is an ongoing evolution towards a more horizontal approach based on truth and fact, collective rather than exclusive knowledge, which might not be as inspiring, sexy or exclusive, but it shows maturity. As yoga is shedding its nationalistic skin, we are participating in the birthing of a different model of belonging.
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