In a country as diverse and complex as India, the question of who gets acknowledged and who doesn’t is never just a technicality. It is a reflection of whose voices we value, whose contributions we recognise, and ultimately, whose stories we choose to tell.
The recent incident involving indigenous designer Sudhir John Horo, whose name was reportedly removed from institutional records and course materials at a premier Indian design school, is more than a story of professional oversight. It is a powerful example of the deeper issues of erasure, invisibility, and institutional bias that affect not just individuals from marginalised communities but the moral fabric of our society as a whole.
This Is Not Just About One Person
Born in Jharkhand and a graduate of one of India’s top design institutions (National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad), Horo is far from a fringe figure. He has led India’s branding initiatives at the World Economic Forum in Davos, conceptualised globally recognised campaigns like Incredible India@60 and Indiafrica, and designed the logo for Invest India, a symbol showcased at the World Expo Dubai 2020. However, his contribution remains reportedly unacknowledged by the institution.
When Horo discovered his contributions had been reduced to generic phrases like “Teamwork” without individual credit, he reached out to institutional leadership. His polite requests were met with silence. On the day he visited the campus in traditional attire to have what he described as a “final cup of tea” with the Director, he was informed that the Director was unavailable. He waited outside the gates for hours. According to publicly available accounts, no official from the institution met with him on the day of his visit.
Why This Matters to Everyone
- It Questions the Integrity of Institutions
Educational and cultural institutions are not just centres of learning; they are guardians of values like fairness, transparency, and accountability. When such institutions fail to uphold those principles, public trust is eroded. If it can happen to someone as accomplished as Horo, it sets a dangerous precedent for countless others who may not have the platform to speak out. - It Exposes the Fragility of Recognition
In creative fields, authorship and attribution are more than formality; they are currency. Denying someone credit for their work has lasting implications, from professional reputation to future opportunities. It’s not just about ego; it’s about justice. - It Highlights the Marginalization of Indigenous Knowledge
The issue isn’t just that a name was removed. It’s that the name belonged to a person from an indigenous background, a community historically excluded from elite academic spaces. Indigenous knowledge and creativity are often celebrated as “exotic” or “authentic,” yet the creators themselves are frequently sidelined when it comes to recognition and leadership. - It Undermines the Idea of India as an Inclusive Nation
India often positions itself globally as a multicultural democracy rooted in diversity. Incidents like this reveal the gap between that image and reality. They force us to confront uncomfortable truths about who gets to be seen, heard, and remembered. - It Connects to Global Movements for Equity
Around the world, institutions are being challenged to re-examine their histories, practices, and power structures. From museums to universities, the call for decolonisation and inclusion is growing. India is not immune to this. Ignoring such issues only delays progress and damages our global credibility.
Silence Is Not Neutral
So far, the institution at the centre of this controversy has not issued a statement, initiated an investigation, or offered an explanation. This silence speaks volumes. In a time when accountability is expected and demanded, silence is not a neutral act; it is a position. And it signals to other marginalised voices that they may not be safe, seen, or valued.
The Bigger Question
This is not just about a missing name in a document. It is about the kind of world we are building, one where credit is fairly given, where heritage is respected, and where institutions serve all people equally.
When we allow erasure to happen quietly, we become complicit. When we speak up, we help create a society where everyone, regardless of background, is acknowledged, included, and treated with dignity.
Because in the end, if the authorship of one of the nation’s most visionary indigenous designers can be erased, whose story is safe?
