Tuesday, April 29, 2025
Blog Page 1677

Where will the Tories turn after Cameron?

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As a Brasenose PPEist I’m probably breaking the college spirit by speculating against only our second Prime Minister. In recent weeks, however, it seems that the Conservative leadership isn’t as clever or canny or even conservative as we’ve been told. Whisper it softly, but Cameron will surely not be a two-term PM, even if we see a two-term government.

First the Coalition alienated the public through NHS reform and the 45p tax cut for the 1%. Then in a panic-stricken attempt to win them back the Tories sought to re-establish their centrist credentials through ritually humiliating their base: the granny tax, gay marriage, and a perceived servility to marauding Lib Dem ministers.

The results are predictable – Labour leads the Tories by ten points and Cameron’s personal rating is abysmal, flattered only by Ed’s. The philosophy of government pursued by the Coalition appears masochistic, but it’s not intentional. This recklessness is a consequence of the tension between the traditionalists and the modernisers; between shire Tories and the ‘Notting Hill’ set of social liberals who inhibit the upper echelons of the Party. Those tribes haven’t been able to reconcile their divisions, resulting in a clinical PR job which barely masked instincts that the public still finds unpleasant.

Modernisation is great. It worked for New Labour who won three thumping majorities. Doubtless the Conservatives needed to widen their appeal and convey a social purpose. Yet Cameron’s modernisation – the ‘detoxification’ of the brand – was half-baked. Riding huskies and hugging hoodies may have blunted the teeth of the ‘nasty party’, but it didn’t speak to aspirational working classes who, whilst deserting Labour in droves, didn’t turn Blue.

Twenty years have passed since the Conservatives last won an election outright. 2015 is the last opportunity for the current leadership to demonstrate its worth. But it’s tough to see how they can. The Tories failed to win in 2010 owing to a chronic lack of support amongst three groups which they are now systematically alienating – the public sector, ethnic minorities and the country north of Birmingham. Oh yes, and women. The vilification of Sayeeda Warsi, Conservative co-chair, by backbenchers has been a particularly nasty demonstration of latent prejudice in the party.

Tim Montgomerie, the influential founder of the grass-roots web phenomenon Conservativehome, last week asked prominent right-wingers from media, business and Parliament who they wanted after Dave. The results tell us more about the party today than tomorrow. Hague and Boris do well; Osborne doesn’t. Priti Patel – a relative unknown – actually beat the Chancellor. She wasn’t the only female right-winger to poll strongly. In the absence of success the right has become nostalgic. The conclusion that the Party is ‘yearning for another Thatcher’ seems apt. If Cameron’s Coalition continues to mess things up, we may get one.

Egypt on the brink – of what?

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To the casual observer, the atmosphere in the streets of Cairo is ‘business as usual’. The tents are gone from Tahrir square, Fridays are dedicated to prayer rather than protest, and rage is more frequently directed at fellow road users than the ruling élite. Western media attention has largely moved on to more headline-worthy destinations. Compared with the cataclysmic scenes of last year, the current symptoms of Egypt’s ongoing passage to democracy – anti-military graffiti and posters of unphotogenic presidential candidates- seem tame. Egypt has achieved much of what its revolution set out to do.

After Hosni Mubarak was removed, the country has suspended its old constitution, seen a proliferation of independent media and conducted its first free and fair parliamentary elections. Indeed, many believe that the end is now in sight, for the election of the country’s President in May will supposedly mark the end of military rule and complete the transition to civilian government. But Egypt is not yet out of the woods. The decisions to be made in the coming months will define the new political order, and risks abound.

The growing influence of the fundamentalist Muslim Brotherhood, which took almost half the seats in the recent parliamentary election, is cause for concern among Egypt’s liberals and minorities. The Brotherhood’s latest pluralistic rhetoric remains unconvincing. True, the leaders of its Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) went carol singing at Cairo Cathedral last Christmas, but went on to stuff the Constitutional Assembly with their supporters last month.

The Brotherhood denied using its parliamentary dominance to hijack the panel that will write Egypt’s new charter, but the numbers speak for themselves: 65 of the 100 seats went to Muslims, and a mere six apiece to women and Christians.

The Brotherhood’s opponents fear that the Islamists seek to strengthen Article II of the current constitution, which declares Egypt an Islamic state. 25 liberal members walked out of the Assembly’s first meeting at the end of March, pledging to write an alternative constitution ‘in collaboration with all the segments of society’. It remains to be seen whether their demands will be met.

Elsewhere, the Brotherhood’s determination to maximise its political leverage is even more overt. In the latest chapter of its showdown with the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), the FJP drafted a no-confidence motion against Egypt’s interim government, increasing pressure on the military to appoint a Cabinet led by the parliament’s majority; that is, themselves.

At the beginning of this month, the Brotherhood casually revealed via Facebook that they would be fielding their own candidate, deputy leader Khairat al-Shater, in the upcoming presidential race. In doing this, they reneged on a key and repeated promise of their campaign in the parliamentary election. Many believed that the controversy surrounding the group could soar no higher. That was until the announcement that not one but two Brotherhood contenders would be entering.

In a statement made on 7th April, one day before the registration deadline, the group said: “Because we are protecting the success of the revolution and all of its goals … we have decided to nominate [party leader] Mohammed Morsi as our back-up candidate for president.’ Though the final outcome of both these political manoeuvres is still unclear, the ambition of the Muslim Brotherhood is not. One way or another they seek to dominate both the executive and the legislative wings of government in a new regime that they have designed.

Another big question mark hangs over Egypt’s military. The puppet civilian government established last March has made little attempt to hide the fact that the SCAF is still in charge. Though held up as heroes at the time of Mubarak’s overthrow, the military have since shown neither love for nor even understanding of democracy. Military trials have continued unabated, and dangerously vague emergency laws remain in place.

The police and soldiers responsible for the 800 dead and 11,000 wounded in January’s revolution have not even been investigated. Indeed, violence against protesters has continued throughout the year. The Maspero Massacre of October 2011 saw over two dozen protesters, predominantly Christian, killed by military and police forces. An originally peaceful sit-in outside the Cabinet building was met by army bullets, killing at least 14. Many remain doubtful that a new government will be able to limit the power of an institution that has dominated Egypt’s politics for over half a century and, according to some analysts, still controls up to 40% of the economy.

Beset by power-hungry fundamentalists and generals accustomed to dictatorship, Egypt’s fledgling democracy is far from secure. Economic stagnation and latent sectarian tensions could drag the country down even if democracy is established. Egypt’s revolution has come a long way. But it is far from over.

Alain de Botton talks religion

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Suppose you’re an atheist.You’ve decided you’re not worried about getting on with disapproving God, or stamping out religion in its various forms. You just want to be happy, and get on with having a decent life. Fantastic! Off you go. And a few weeks later, as you smoke cigarettes at 4am and try to relax, you find yourself thinking ‘What am I doing with my life?’ What now?

This is a normal, human feeling. At least, I hope it is, because otherwise I’ve got far more problems than I thought I did. Let’s assume it is. I’ll assume that sleep-destroying, relationship-wrecking, miserable, paralytic anxiety is something of a default state for humanity. Bleak. What the hell? People live like this?

Except, people didn’t always live like this. The base-state of anxiety was the same, but when you felt confused you had something to hold on to – organised religion. They say it helps to keep suicidally depressed people busy – arrange cinema trips, so that their future is partially mapped out, partially contingently existing, as well as including some positive things. And 100 years ago, organised religion could provide something similar – some structure, some stability.  

But you’re an atheist. So you can’t participate in any of these regular meetings of strangers, and these occasions that draw family members together from across the country to exchange gifts, any of these rituals of reflection on life itself. You can’t enjoy any religious literature, any religious architecture, draw on thousands of years of moral thought. So what do you do?

Alain de Botton has an answer, which he presented to a full house at the Oxford Literary Festival, in my interview with him, and in his new book, Religion for Atheists. That answer is simple – crib / borrow / steal the features of religion that can be separated from doctrine, and put them into practice in your own life. To de Botton, religions are ‘buffets’. He explained, “Some of my critics have accused me of practicing the buffet style of philosophy.. and here they’re absolutely right. I see religion before me as a buffet and I take my plate and I eat the nicest bits.”

To de Botton religions are not without flaws – he is firm and precise in saying that religion is no excuse for intolerance. But he argues that it is the intolerance that is bad in those cases, rather than simply all of religion. And in the same way that there are parts of certain religions we might want to remove from society, there are also parts that could be worth saving.

One response would be to call this approach condescending – what gives anyone the right to tell anyone else how to live? Why do we even need to be told what to do? De Botton responds with scepticism to the idea that we all feel that we’re in control of our lives, a view you don’t normally hear in the public sphere. Waxing on the concept of a soul, he told me, “I like the concept of original sin. Original sin is a really helpful idea. It insists that the human being is broken, that humans are insufficient and incapable of perfection.

‘That’s the starting point of original sin.  And that’s a really good way to start, let’s say, a relationship. Imagine you have two young, beautiful, perfect people – they’re going to have a terrible relationship.  If you get together going ‘Look, I’m completely broken’ and ‘Oh good, well I am too’ you’ll be much happier.”

I feel like this is a sentiment that is almost never expressed. Again, that could just be because no one really feels like that, and I really should be paying someone to help me work through such feelings. But as de Botton points out, working through such insecurities has been one of the goals of religion, and working through these insecurities should in fact be a goal for all of us. And even if they take a path that starts at supernatural doctrine and follow it all the way to intolerance, there are parts of that journey which any right-thinking secular individual will surely see as useful and separable from the unwanted features.  

In his 2011 book, Thinking, Fast and Slow, Daniel Kahneman explains his prospect theory, an alternative to economic theories that assume ideal rationality on the part of an agent. Humans are not ideally rational – we can strive to be, but we can be influenced by biases about what’s valuable, what we say is important. These biases are created outside of the decisions themselves. It may be that if we want to change our behaviour, we ought to shape our biases, rather than pursue rationally ideal decision making. How de Botton talks about the use of religion for atheists suggests ways that we can shape our biases using the tropes of religion.

The point is not where our views come from, but their own worth. He accepts it as true that anything you can pick out from religion you can also get from Wordsworth. However, de Botton argues, “It’s true, Wordsworth says a lot of this – he’s all about the fecundity of the earth and the cycle of the seasons and all the rest of it. There’s one major problem that the secular world forgets about Wordsworth and others and that point is that, not to be rude, none of us read Wordsworth.

‘The reason that we don’t read Wordsworth is that we mean to but we never get around to it.  We read a little bit at University but we’re very busy.  Religions know that about us: that’s why they think that we need that diary, we need a chronology of spiritually important things, and I think, from a secular point of view, that that’s fascinating and thought-provoking.”

Religions are for de Botton prototypes of secular moral institutions. They are structured, they are ordered, they are clear, and they are supportive. They are of course not ‘right’ – although who knows what that would actually mean in the context of a moral decision. But there is no reason an atheist might think of a religion as ‘wrong’, as well as accepting that its believers have their personal lives far more together than they could manage on their own.

De Botton ultimately wants us to bring  morality back. ‘We are too easily frightened. So often, anytime that someone proposes a valid idea in this area, people say, but what about Hitler, or Stalin. This is not the choice. We can have public morality without fascism, we can even have certain kinds of censorship without dictatorship, we can have great civic architecture which isn’t done by governments for their own glory.

For de Botton, Atheism doesn’t have to mean nihilism, and he tell me, ‘We don’t need to abandon ourselves to freemarket capitalism under the spiritual leadership of cable television.’

Sides of the story

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How does Boris Johnson’s decision to ban the adverts for ‘post-gay therapy’ make you feel? Are you worried that the ‘liberal’ values imposed on you by those London types are really just a way to undermine the culture you grew up to love?  Well, if so, The Daily Mail is as ever ready and waiting to let you know that you are not alone, and to calm your fears with its traditional mix of homespun values and shrieking outrage. It reminds us that “people ought not to be reproached, much less punished, for the way they are born.”

But, feigning reason, the paper ventures that “they can be legitimately asked not to act on their aberrant tendencies”, which, in any case are barely tendencies at all as “only about one percent of us are that way inclined”, and anyway “homosexuality is obviously a departure from the norm”. They finish with a call to arms that sounds a teeny bit hyperbolic given that it was sparked by a debate over bus advertising: “All of us, Christians or otherwise, ought to be wary of the systematic campaign to destroy everything our civilisation stands for.”

Wow. Opening the Mail is always a jarring experience, a bit like being throw headfirst into a deranged version of the 1950s, but propagating hard-core, build-a-nuclear-bunker-under-the-shed conspiracy theories is definitely a new level of crazy.
The Guardian framed the controversy as part of a wider trend towards Christian political activism among ‘aggressively conservative evangelical groups’, citing some wonk who thinks that “the scale of their political power has been in long-term decline and some groups of Christians have reacted with fear and anger. They fear they will become irrelevant and they are angry because they feel they hold the truth and have a right to be at the centre of the arena.’ Because, of course, who does what to whom in the bedroom is the political issue of the moment.

The Telegraph tries to claim that “the ‘bus advert storm’ confirms that Christians are now more progressive than gay rights activists”, playing somewhat weakly on the argument that. perversely, it is now the Christians rather than gay rights activists who see homosexuality as a lifestyle choice rather down to some nefarious ‘gay gene’, as was the conservative belief in the old days. Interesting, though the point might be more convincing if those same Christians didn’t talk about these ‘lifestyle choices’ like some multi-headed beast from the hallucinatory parts of the Bible that no one bothers to try and draw moral lessons from.

The whole firestorm does feel a little forced, though: the British church is known more for fund-raising tea parties than for fire and brimstone about the devilwork of permissive values. I doubt we’ll be hearing much more about voodoo gay cures and saving British civilisation anytime soon.  

Review: Gatz, New York’s Public Theatre

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In a dead-end office somewhere in the late eighties, non-descript office personnel type non-descript memos on pleasingly clunky electric typewriters. In the background, these memos are seemingly arbitrarily filed by other clunky and non-descript members of staff, as a man sits down at his desk, tries – and fails – to boot up his computer, and pulls out a copy of The Great Gatsby. And so we begin. The expression ‘long story short’ is a cute and easily referenced explication on the way we tell stories: abbreviating even the code for abbreviation. Gatz, on the other hand, leaves nothing out.

At his desk, Scott Shepherd begins to read: badly, gratingly, with a bland American voice that has little to recommend it. After about an hour – at least time to fill two or three decades in the average biopic – he begins to enjoy himself: a falsetto for Daisy Buchanan, a thunderous bass for Tom. And then, in the background, these paper-pushers and desk jockeys begin to take on the characters. A young woman with a golf magazine is Jordan, despite being neither jaunty-chinned nor yellow haired; a balding man with more than a passing reference to John Lithgow is, suddenly, Jay Gatz. This is at once a staged reading, and a skillful dramatization of a well-loved text. Not one of the characters ‘looks’, nor even sounds, particularly right: Shepherd’s Carraway is freckly and anaemic; cruelly aristocratic hunk Tom is borne of bullying janitorial hulk. Actually, this is one of Gatz’s cleverest explications: the improvisatory quality of reading. Our cast is not chosen according to type, nor even a particular ‘feel’, but pressed into service out of the available office staff. This is not like a film.

Not one of Fitzgerald’s 47000 words is spared onstage in a production that lasts almost seven hours: there can be no skimming of florid description, or page-flicking through to the bit where someone breaks someone else’s nose. The pace is set, and, short of leaving halfway through, there’s not a damned thing you can do about it. At times, one fidgets and hums through the pages of imagery; at times, one is rapt, and perches on the edge of the seat (and gets tapped on the shoulder by an elderly Mittel-European woman whose view is being obscured). Fitzgerald’s prose is given space to shine, in this unconventional, ‘nowhere’ space, somewhere just outside of real life. Descending into New York’s Public Theatre feels a little like plunging into the belly of the city, with internal plumbing and rattling subway trains humming in the background of the set. It feels very right for a text that is so caught up with the ‘New Yorkness’ of the city – perhaps even more real than the city aboveground, to which one returns, pink-eyed and blinking.

A six hundred word review can’t really hope to do justice to a production of such length, strength and expanse. Long story short, then. The show is set to come to the Noel Coward theatre in London later this year: though such geographical pertinence will inevitably be lacking, I have every belief that this could be the best thing you see all year.

The Brazen Cheek: TT12, Week One

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Small room. Walls not quite perpendicular; large pile of unpacked cases. A plate of grapes rests on a coffee table, affecting something of a decadent, late-Roman air, but with the debilitating shortfall of their original packaging . A bust of Seneca on the mantelpiece. Mud everywhere. Two overdressed English students slouch.

Curtain. A flourish of horns. A flurry of tusks. A lone violinist stands in the corner. He’s forgotten his violin.

JAMES: …and that, Josh, was the most dismal, abject, (building up to a primal cry of ennui; spittle begins to fly), repugnant excuse for a nativity play I have ever had the utter misery of witnessing.

JOSH: Quite, quite. (Wants him to shut up). It’s that time of the week again.

JAMES: Oh. (unbuckling gingerly) If we must.

JOSH: No, James, it’s a Friday. We’ve got to write our column. Any ideas?

JAMES: (rebuckling) Oh well, it’s the first week of Trinity. We can fob them off with something loosely summer-related. Garden plays, punting, Pimms. Pretending to be in Brideshead. That sort of thing.

JOSH: No, no. Can’t do a half-arsed job; not in first week. Leave that for fourth or fifth at least. What’s happened? There’s student drama, the Shakespeare festival, Matilda’s cleaned up at the Oliviers.

JAMES: I hear the play did rather well, too. (Audience laughs)

JOSH: Aah, this is no good. What can we do? That Michael Ball chap’s been in Sweeney Todd, being serious for a change. Which is nice for him.

JAMES: (sneering) A musical? How droll.

JOSH: You write this bloody thing then. I’ve got a collection tomorrow.

Ginterval.©

Curtain. A flourish of horns. The violinist has found his violin. It wasn’t hidden well enough.

JOSH: Shut up! (throws the book at violinist. He leaves, sobbing. JOSH retrieves the book.) Now then…

JAMES drums fingers against chair.

JOSH: Ah! What about a hard-hitting piece of social commentary, explicating the woeful lives of the working poor in our society?

JAMES: I can see the fan mail coming in by the bucket load.

JOSH: (hurt) No need to get sarky.

JAMES: That’s all I’m here for. You write the stuff, and I make it readable.

JOSH: If you say so.

JAMES: I say so.

JOSH: Say you so. So say you. So ray me fah…

JAMES: (sharply) Yes, all right.

JOSH: Fine, fine. What’s happening? Dangerous Liaisons. That’s a novel, isn’t it? What about something on adaptations? We should probably just do that.

JAMES: This is stupid. Where’s the flair gone? This was the dream. This was our opportunity to demonstrate our erudition, our wit, our … our …

JOSH: Ability to spin out five hundred words on demand?

JAMES: And that.

JOSH: What are the new editors going to think?

JAMES: New editors? That’s it! I’ve found the golden ticket! The proverbial bathwater has o’erbrimmd its clammy cells. I’m Archimedes!

JOSH: Running naked through the streets of Syracuse?

JAMES: No! We just send them this! In the form of a play script! It’ll be a bloody nightmare to format and chances are they’ll have to give us more than a narrow strip of column to fit it all in! I hope you’ve been writing this down.

Stenographer waves from the corner. Curtain.

Manuscripts of Desire

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Inside the display space provided in the Bodleian’s exhibition room, Nicholas Perkins, guest curator and medievalist at St Hugh’s, has packed together the narrative gems of the medieval period: manuscript, book, and artefact. Second year English undergrads who spent Hilary term devouring the vivid poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight can finally confront the poem as relic in the only surviving copy, British Library Cotton Nero A.x, which is as large as a Book of Common Prayer, and whose clumsy illustrations feature a polka-dotted seductress.

But it isn’t all vellum and illumination. Perkins’ vision was to pay tribute not only to the range of material from medieval romance, but to the enduring legacy of romance which extends to Tolkien and Harry Potter. Romance has survived, Perkins believes, because ‘It unlocks the power of storytelling…It’s about desire – whether that’s for money or wealth or women – and it relies on apparently very simple story patterns.’

These manuscripts are survivors of a past age where books were reserved for the few, and, as such, their owners wanted to leave their mark of authorship. Collectors that acquired medieval manuscripts often had them rebound in their own coat of arms or style.

One of Perkins’ favourite items is MS Bodl. 264, an ornate and gold-leaf-illustrated cycle of Alexander the Great, one of the Bodleian’s most treasured manuscripts. There are ‘fantastic illustrations not only in the pages but all around the outside as well: monstrous animals, games – quite risqué things that are going on in the margins’, says Perkins. ‘It’s full of life and energy.’,
Though students can’t expect to be able to access items like Ms Bodl. 264 without the assistance of their tutors, Perkins praises the accessibility of digital archives, ‘Ironically, the [manuscripts] that are least accessible in person are often really accessible online.’

The exhibit, he suggests, emphasizes the point pioneering book historian Don McKenzie made: ‘Form effects meaning’. Perkins suggests we should always acknowledge a book’s materiality. ‘It should remind us that when we’re reading, say, Dickens, it’s still important that the Penguin Classics text doesn’t really look like the one Dickens published in the 19th century.’

The book and its value is not something strictly bound up with manuscript culture. Books have always been – and remain – items of value; they are beautiful, physical, interactive, and malleable. Surviving manuscripts are ‘a sign of what’s lost,’ says Perkins. The digital age presents new benefits and challenges to literary culture. It is technology which opens up the past and enables newcomers and the uninitiated to interact with valuable works of literature in an unprecedented way. However, we do not know what we will lose in the process.

Oxford graduate under scrutiny

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Bo Guagua, a student at Balliol between 2006 and 2010, has been under intense international media scrutiny since his mother, the wife of a Chinese Communist party chief, was named as “highly suspected” in an investigation into the murder of a British businessman.

Bo Guagua, who is now studying at Harvard, is now reported to be seeking asylum in the USA, after he left his Boston home with a police escort where Chinese men were seen watching his flat.

His father Bo Xilai has been removed from his prominent position as party chief of the Chongqing branch of the Communist Party, following allegations from the Chinese media that his wife was involved with the death of Neil Heywood.

In an article on Monday the Press Association suggested that Heywood, who worked as a consultant in China, and was closely associated with Bo Xilai, died from cyanide poisoning. State media also reported that “Bogu Kailai, wife of Comrade Bo Xilai, and their son were in good terms with Heywood. However, they had conflict over economic interests which had been intensified.”

An orderly at Bo’s home, Zhang Xiaojun, and his wife have apparently “been transferred to judicial authorities on suspected crime of intentional homicide”.

Police chief Wang Lijun, who later turned whistleblower and fled to a US consulate seeking asylum, allegedly told his officers to record Mr Heywood’s death as a heart attacked under Mr Bo’s orders.

During Bo Guagua’s time in Oxford, he was rusticated, and moved into the Randolph Hotel. Despite his depiction by British and Chinese national media as a playboy and socialite, he eventually graduated with a 2:1 in PPE.

However, Balliol refused to give a reference to Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, where Bo Gua gua is now studying for a masters in public policy.

One student told Cherwell that while Bo Guagua was “not especially under-prepared” academically, he “spent more time on out of college stuff, like the Union and the PPE Society” than his degree.

One anonymous student told the Telegraph, “He never held back on spending. He was always buying people drinks”. Another recalled his failed attempt to rise to prominence in the Union: “A whole bunch of Chinese students came to vote for Guagua. They couldn’t as they had only joined the day before. Guagua tried to argue about it but there was nothing he could do.”

In 2007, three Chinese diplomats visited Balliol to request the university were more lenient on Bo Xilai’s son, as they claimed his rustication would reflect badly on the politician in a country where education is so highly valued. One source commented, “His tutors replied if that was the case they should get him to work harder.”

A University spokesperson said, “All Oxford students are treated the same. Admission is based solely on academic merit, and there are absolutely no exceptions to that policy.”

Bo Xilai, who was a popular contender for party leadership, is currently under investigation by central party officials for “serious disciplinary violations”.

Bo Guagua, who is now studying at Harvard, is now reported to be seeking asylum in the USA, after he left his Boston home with a police escort where Chinese men were seen watching his flat.
His father Bo Xilai has been removed from his prominent position as party chief of the Chongqing branch of the Communist Party, following allegations from the Chinese media that his wife was involved with the death of Neil Heywood.
In an article on Monday the Press Association suggested that Heywood, who worked as a consultant in China, and was closely associated with Bo Xilai, died from cyanide poisoning. State media also reported that  “Bogu Kailai, wife of Comrade Bo Xilai, and their son were in good terms with Heywood. However, they had conflict over economic interests which had been intensified.”
An orderly at Bo’s home, Zhang Xiaojun, and his wife have apparently “been transferred to judicial authorities on suspected crime of intentional homicide”.
Police chief Wang Lijun, who later turned whistleblower and fled to a US consulate seeking asylum, allegedly told his officers to record Mr Heywood’s death as a heart attacked under Mr Bo’s orders.
During Bo Guagua’s time in Oxford, he was rusticated, and moved into the Randolph Hotel. Despite his depiction by British and Chinese national media as a playboy and socialite, he eventually graduated with a 2:1 in PPE.
However, Balliol refused to give a reference to Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, where Bo  Gua gua is now studying for a masters in public policy.
One student told Cherwell that while Bo Guagua was “not especially under-prepared” academically, he “spent more time on out of college stuff, like the Union and the PPE Society” than his degree.
One anonymous student told the Telegraph, “He never held back on spending. He was always buying people drinks”. Another recalled his failed attempt to rise to prominence in the Union: “A whole bunch of Chinese students came to vote for Guagua. They couldn’t as they had only joined the day before. Guagua tried to argue about it but there was nothing he could do.”
In 2007, three Chinese diplomats visited Balliol to request the university were more lenient on Bo Xilai’s son, as they claimed his rustication would reflect badly on the politician in a country where education is so highly valued. One source commented, “His tutors replied if that was the case they should get him to work harder.”
A University spokesperson said, “All Oxford students are treated the same. Admission is based solely on academic merit, and there are absolutely no exceptions to that policy.”
Bo Xilai, who was a popular contender for party leadership, is currently under investigation by central party officials for “serious disciplinary violations”

Oxford Oddities #1 – Oriel

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Today the quads of Oriel College are brimming with modern day dandies, oozing sophistication and extravagance. Little do they know that the original father of dandyism actually attended Oriel in 1793. George Bryan Brummell, or ‘Beau’, was at the forefront of Regency fashion and one of the most talked-about men in town. Dictator of taste and etiquette, Beau was an adamant socialite and dinner party wit. Despite lacking aristocratic blood, Beau climbed the social ladder with the aid of his flawless appearance and silver tongue. He helped to transform the way men dress today and initiated the British enthusiasm for tailoring.

Before Beau entered the scene, men would parade around in powdered wigs and buckle shoes. Today, these pompous peacocks doused with perfume, powder and paint are considered effeminate and eccentric. Beau was unusual in washing daily and his sombre, fitted attire set him apart from his contemporaries. In Brummell’s season bright colours and wigs were out whilst dark suits and cravats were in. Formal was the word of the moment. His belief was, ‘If people turn to look at you on the street, you are not well dressed.’

Yet his immaculate appearance was said to take five hours to perfect. His shoes were cleaned with champagne and three hairdressers attended his Roman coiffure. When asked how much it would cost to dress a man he supposedly said, ‘Why, with tolerable economy, I think it might be done with £800.’ The average craftsman received £1 per week.

Brummell’s famous white cravats were starched and worn so high up his neck that his nose pointed up in the air and he couldn’t turn his head. Attempting to follow suit, someone allegedly stiffened his cravat so hard that it cut his ear. Beau kept his starching a secret for some time, leaving society on tenterhooks as to his marvellous neck wear.

Whilst his dress was impeccable, his behaviour certainly wasn’t. Beau was notoriously badly behaved at Eton, and continued to be so at Oriel. His friendship with the Prince Regent ended abruptly at a ball. Upon entering, the Prince snubbed Brummell and, in a Sarkozy-Cameron moment, refused to shake his hand. Beau responded coyly with, ‘Alvanley, who’s your fat friend?’

Attempts were made to move beyond his profession as a full time fashionista when Beau entered for the Newdegate writing Prize. Unfortunately, due to his failure to win he quickly left Oriel and the literary world was never graced with his creations.

Beau was possibly the first ‘it-guy’ to walk the streets of London. A Regency Katie Price, this self-made dandy was more famous for being famous than anything else. Yet he made his way in aristocratic society without a title, little wealth, and no profession to speak of. He also achieved great fame and enduring influence over British fashion for centuries to come.

Preview: Dangerous Liaisons

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Christina Drollas, the director of Dangerous Liaisons, talks about the upcoming production which is being performed at the Oxford Playhouse from the 2nd to the 5th of May.