Where is swadeshi architecture in Atmanirbhar Bharat?

The recently unveiled design for the new Bombay High Court Complex in Bandra (E) is a Rs 3,750 crore monument to this architectural colonialism. It reflects our inability to imagine buildings that reflect our identity rather than that of our colonisers.

The Maharashtra government selected architect Hafeez Contractor after the Public Works Department (PWD) disapproved of the previous design. However, the winning design — a neo-classical pastiche complete with Roman domes, European colonnades, and imperial symmetry— suggests we have simply replaced one borrowed aesthetic with another. The new complex will have 75 courtrooms with special lifts just for judges, with judges entering from the front and the public from the back. Even the circulation plan reinforces hierarchies rather than accessibility. This isn’t public architecture; it is architecture designed to appease power; it’s architectural tourism masquerading as sophistication.

Take, for example, the design elements: Soaring domes that could have been lifted from St. Peter’s Basilica, colonnades that evoke the British Raj, and a formal symmetry that speaks the language of Europe rather than Indian architecture. Every architectural detail screams of somewhere else, some other culture’s idea of what important buildings should look like.

Where is Mumbai in this design? Where is Maharashtra? Where is India?

This is a systemic pattern visible across India. Our public buildings — airports, railway stations, government complexes, cultural centres — increasingly resemble architectural theme parks boasting foreign aesthetics. We import marble from Italy, copy proportions from Greece, have glass facades, only to eventually wonder and criticise why our buildings feel disconnected from the very people they are meant to cater to. The process for finalising this design itself is questionable. The appointment follows a state-led architectural competition, but this was not an open call; rather, it was an invited competition limited to a few established names. This exclusivity restricts architectural opportunities, leading to predictable and stale results, and we get buildings that satisfy institutional expectations rather than challenge them.

Thousands of talented architects across India, young practices, and regional firms, remain locked out of opportunities to reimagine public spaces. We have established an architectural ecosystem where connections hold greater significance than creativity and innovation, where established names prevail over novel perspectives. The result is buildings that neither serve contemporary needs nor express cultural identity.

Meanwhile, countries worldwide demonstrate what’s possible when architecture embraces local identity. Modern Finnish courthouses feel distinctly Nordic while serving democratic values, while contemporary Japanese public buildings celebrate traditional craftsmanship through modern forms. Even Bangladesh, our neighbour, recently held an open international competition for their new parliament, resulting in an innovative design that honours local identity while meeting contemporary needs.

The contradiction is significant. We speak of “Swadeshi” in manufacturing, pushing for made-in-India products, yet our most important public buildings are designed in borrowed languages using imported materials and aesthetics. We celebrate “Atmanirbhar Bharat” while creating architecture that could exist anywhere except India.

The solution requires courage – courage to have open, fair, and accessible architectural competitions for all major public projects. This means transparent criteria, diverse juries, and equal opportunity for emerging and established practices. It also means evaluating designs on merit — how well they serve users, respond to context, and express our cultural values — rather than the reputation of the firms.
Open competitions democratise design. They ensure the best and optimal ideas win regardless of their source, bringing fresh perspectives to stale problems. They create opportunities for young talent while challenging established practices to innovate.

If we truly believe in “Swadeshi” and “Atmanirbhar Bharat,” we must start by shaping our daily lives through public architecture. Our architecture should reflect our values, not our colonial hangover. It’s time to stop building monuments with borrowed aesthetics and start creating spaces that genuinely cater to the people of India — in forms that look like they belong here.

The death of “Swadeshi” architecture isn’t inevitable, but it requires acknowledging that our current system is failing, opening opportunities to those locked out, and having the courage to imagine public buildings that truly reflect who we are rather than who we think we should imitate. Until then, we will continue spending billions on architectural costumes as we continue to be hypocritical about the same in our voices, while our authentic architectural voice remains unheard.

The writer is Founding Editor, ArchitectureLive! & Unbuilt Ideas