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“Everywhere we go, we ask: ‘What are the dominant narratives about the city? And what are they hiding?”

By
Amelia Dovell
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Founders Olivia Durand and Paula Larsson. Image credit: Uncomfortable Oxford

I’ve walked past the Clarendon Building on Broad Street many times – but I’d never thought to ask what it had been used for in the past. While today it innocuously houses the Bodleian Library admissions department, in the 19th century, its basement was used as holding cells for the university’s ‘Nightwatch’ police unit.

“It was separate from the city police, operating from sundown to sunrise. Its specific role was to apprehend suspect women who were walking on the streets of the city… This marked women, meaning it was hard for them to go into other types of employment.” Olivia Durand, one of the founders of Uncomfortable Oxford, explains to me. 

“Even for several decades after female students were admitted –  they couldn’t go out without a chaperone. They always needed to walk in pairs, otherwise they risked being apprehended by the ‘Nightwatch’.”

Untangling Oxford from its complicated, imperial past is a process which is certainly still in progress. One voice in the conversation is Uncomfortable Oxford: a social enterprise which seeks to uncover and tell forgotten stories of inequality within Oxford – as a city, and University. Founded in 2018 by two doctoral students, Olivia Durand and Paula Larsson, the walking tours cover a broad range of ‘uncomfortable’ topics and power dynamics: the legacy of the British Empire, the ethics of donation, the exclusion of women in academic spaces. I spoke to Olivia and Paula to hear how their doctoral research led them across academic thresholds, to public outreach.

The pair’s research seems strikingly relevant to contemporary politics. Olivia studies settler colonialism, comparing the USA and Russian Empires in the 19th century. “I started in 2014, looking at narratives of colonising coming to the fore in public discourse. Since 2022, this has emerged more prominently as the invasion of Ukraine has received more attention than the 2014 annexation of Crimea at the time.”

Paula studies the history of medicine, specifically the history of vaccination and medical power. “In earlier research I looked at how [vaccination] was forced upon indigenous communities within the colonial Canadian past”, a history which she herself was personally connected to. “When I learned about that, in my undergrad years, that raised a lot of questions about policy, of how it’s applied to communities as a whole… who gets to say yes or no to a vaccine, and why?”

“For me, history was really about justice in lots of ways, and understanding better approaches to modern approaches to policy.”

Both were drawn to Oxford for its specialised research centres – but also the name and the prestige which comes with it. “It’s a big name – it’s where people tell you that you have to go if you’re gonna study history successfully. It has an allure, largely because of its history in association with British colonisation, that has perpetuated the glory of ‘Oxford’ as a title.” Paula says. 

“Oxford serves as this competitive branding in some way for you as a historian, to get a position or even to succeed in academia. That’s what we both wanted to do originally, as every youngster is told to do: go and do a PhD, become a postdoc, and then go into an academic setting. And our views have changed since then.”

She sounded rueful. I asked her to elaborate on her view of academic careers. 

“I think our view on it has changed largely from just the possibility of having one, which in the past I think would have been a lot easier to do. In the modern sense, especially humanities and social science programmes are being underfunded, undervalued, and are incredibly, incredibly insecure. Once you’ve finished your postdoc, you’re in an endless cycle… chasing a long term full time contract. All of this, and also trying to have fulfillment and meaning in the work that you’re doing. I want my research to have an immediate real world impact in some way.”

Both of them were doctoral students at Oxford at the same time. “A lot of the conversations we were having in the seminar rooms remained theoretical, abstract. Everything took so long to happen. There was a bit of frustration with what we were interested in, and how applicable it was.” Olivia says. “We knew there was a lot of interest in trying to reassess history to engage critically with the past and the way that they shaped inequalities and injustices in the present” – and so, Uncomfortable Oxford began. 

“I was already a tour guide in the city I did as a part time job just to support myself as an international student.” Paula says. “My gosh, was I tired of talking about David Cameron! This image that people hear when they visit Oxford is one of the old white boys clubs… it’s the draw of a lot of tourism, which is really uncomfortable to think about.”

“I think there’s still a lot of idolisation of that lifestyle, that historic view of what an ‘Oxford University student’ used to be… maybe ‘Saltburn’ hasn’t really helped that image. But that is still the image people get.”

“It’s just so divorced from actual reality – the University is incredibly diverse. It definitely still has problems. But I don’t want every single one of those 9 million visitors to come into the city and get told it’s Boris Johnson’s university. That doesn’t need to be the narrative.”

Public outreach and sparking conversations across different communities is at the heart of the Uncomfortable Oxford ethos. “In my mind it’s like, what’s the point of doing history if no one knows what you’re doing?” Paula says. “This is, in lots of ways, the answer to that – Uncomfortable tours. You can have a researcher who is doing really important work and research, and is able to communicate that everyday to new people constantly. It’s allowed for a lot more moments of cross pollination between academics who are doing a lot of really interesting research, and people who are living those legacies in the present.”

Following the surge of public attention of imperial pasts in 2020 – the toppling of statues and renaming of buildings which followed – in Oxford, it reignited the ‘Rhodes Must Fall Movement’. Over a thousand people gathered, demanding the removal of Cecil Rhodes’ statue. Though the attention it drew to the cause did not bring about its removal, work has been done on contextualisation and matching the Rhodes fund on BME initiatives.

“With activist movements, burnout is a huge problem. Growth, enthusiasm, comes in waves – it’s usually volunteer-led, based on the passion and drive and capacity of individuals.” Paula says.

“Funding is a huge part of that. This is free work, demanding work, and emotionally tolling work for a lot of people. And so what we kind of tried to be is a sustainable intervention. We really believe that the only way to defy systems at all is to value labour, to pay for it and to avoid exploitation of people’s energy, time and research and work that they do. 

Uncomfortable Oxford has gone from a one-off summer project to a model which runs in Oxford, Cambridge and York. Each city is different, and holds a complicated legacy to uncover. “Everywhere we go, we ask: ‘What are the dominant narratives about the city? And what are they hiding?’” says Olivia.

The pair look forward to expanding their model of discussion based talks across the UK and even internationally, as well as developing more educational resources on histories of colonialism and power. “We’re really interested in access to education, access to narratives, and collaborating as much as we can with other organisations doing similar work. So that’s where we’re going.”
At Oxford, sometimes learning can feel confined to a book, a library, or a tutorial. Uncomfortable Oxford’s mission served as a reminder that there is much to be learned everywhere – you just have to look around.

Post Diagnosis

By
Sacha Fairweather
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Image Credit: U.S. Department of Agriculture/CC0 1.0 DEED via rawpixel.com

You could tell no one,

And it would come anyway.

You could run from here,

And it would still live,

Like a river below a house.

You could sleep all night,

Inhaling starlight,

And yet it would still be too late.

So I lay in your bed,

Staring at your bones,

Dark now, and burning.

Waiting for wings,

to burst through your shoulders.

But I am mistaken,

You take your poison

As your leaves fall off your trees,

And the winds rip at our house.

You grow thin and clear

Like the river.

We carve at your body and call it luck,

But a day’s changes mean all to you.

You see all the trees,

this unyielding one,

And you hear the blast of wind

That would have

killed it,

If something at the heart of things

had willed it.

Not all made equal: Why your college really matters

By
Laurence Cooke
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John Speed / Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Oxford and Cambridge are the two diamonds in the crown of British university education, held up by academics, journalists, or whoever makes all those league tables, as the best universities in the world. However, atomised into 39 and 31 colleges respectively, they are at heart federations of much smaller educational institutions and economic units. To the endless confusion of my friends from home, it is in these dinky, quasi-monastic micro-unis that we not only live and socialise but (in contrast to Durham or York) are also taught our degrees. The fundamental Oxbridge unit is the college. 

So far, so good, right? It’s a charming quirk of our university that allows us to develop close relationships with our tutors and fellow students. It’s what makes an Oxbridge education so coveted. I, for one, am certainly a beneficiary of this system, given that I go to St John’s, the richest college at Oxford, deemed the best Oxbridge college by The Telegraph in 2021 (shameless boasting, I know). 

It’s a different story for my girlfriend at Lucy Cavendish College, Cambridge: one of the poorest colleges at the university which first opened its doors to undergraduates to 2021. Next year, she will pay £6,000 more rent than I do to live away from the college site and the city centre. Some students are even at risk of homelessness due to a shortage of accommodation. Hall is only open for dinner a few days each week and prices are not subsidised as they are at John’s. When visiting, I feel that her experience of Oxbridge is radically different from mine. These differences aren’t all negative: Lucy Cavendish’s heritage as a force for women’s education is something to be proud of (by contrast I don’t particularly associate with the fusty early modern men venerated by portraiture in the hall at St John’s). But this isn’t much comfort when you see the rent charges. 

Within Oxford, there are such a range of factors that lead to the stratification of colleges. Age, wealth, and prestige all have a bearing on a student’s university experience, as does location within the city. Rent at St John’s may be as much as 71% less than at Pembroke, but it’s also the book and travel grants, free language lessons, and accommodation on the main college site for every single year of your degree that entrenches the difference between colleges. 

To someone with no Oxbridge alumni in the family (like me or my girlfriend), college choice is something of a Russian roulette. Sure, you can read every college’s near-identical platitudes about their welcoming and diverse community on the university website, and you can even check rent prices (my sole motivation to apply to St John’s). But if nobody tells you of the significance of the choice, or you are pooled and offered a place at a different college, then you have little control of what kind of Oxbridge experience you will get: it’s out of your hands. 

What makes matters worse is that several of the colleges that take the most state comp students and Oxford Bursary recipients are at the wrong end of the college inequality spectrum. This compounds the socio-economic inequalities that exist among students and with university-wide student initiatives seemingly in a vacuum, there is nothing to level the playing field. 

I’m not saying that it’s time to revisit the collegiate system altogether. However, it’s time that the central university – at both Oxford and Cambridge – step in to ensure a minimum standard of financial support, accommodation provision, and welfare help that the Oxbridge name leads us to expect. Addressing the wider inequalities that are borne from college disparities means raising state comp representation and then equalising it across colleges: no more state school ‘stat-padding’ from one or two colleges. The efforts of these colleges, like Mansfield and Lucy Cavendish, are laudable, but due to their small endowments, they often serve to underline the socio-economic dimension of the college ‘hierarchy’. After all, it’s not Christ Church or Magdalen that struggle to house their students or shelter them from the ludicrously high cost of living. 

Both universities need to ensure that all students have the same chance of receiving an offer from the most ‘attractive’ colleges, and that if pooled, this will not jeopardise students’ economic security and stop them from prospering while at Oxbridge. 

For one, this means bringing the SU and its campaigns back from the brink to offer support for students that rises above the unequal college framework. But we must go much further. Students need a more ambitious package of measures that would lead the central university to force colleges to help each other out where necessary. Until then, as the gap between endowments grows, the ‘Oxbridge experience’ will mean increasingly different things for different students. The college system should be a strength of Oxbridge, not its weakness.

‘The Godfather: Part II’ at fifty

By
Hassan Akram
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CC BY-SA 4.0 DEED Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International

The Godfather: Part II is a film about gangsters. It is also a film about corruption, power, betrayal, succession, revenge, religion, marriage, generational change, filial duty, sibling rivalry, the immigrant experience and laissez-faire capitalism. Only the works of Shakespeare combine such a variety of interpretations with unanimous critical acclaim, and the first two Godfathers are to cinema what Shakespeare is to literature. 

Like Shakespeare, both films are endlessly quotable. “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse” – “It’s not personal… It’s strictly business” – “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” – these lines and others are all regularly cited even by those who have never heard of the Corleone family. At times, the Shakespearean influence is almost self-conscious. Compare the “It wasn’t a miscarriage” scene here to Act 4, Scene 1 of Othello, and one can see how exactly the same incident (domestic abuse) is used as a focal point for the hero’s moral, domestic and professional decline. 

In a rare case of the film being better than the book, Mario Puzo’s original novel The Godfather (1969) is very poor stuff. The best that can be said of it is that the pages keep turning. A close novelistic parallel to the protagonist Michael Corleone comes from an unlikely place: the hero in George Gissing’s Demos (1886). Richard Mutimer, like Michael, is an idealistic young man corrupted by his inheritance; he grows cold and abusive towards his family; he becomes obsessed with power; and he ends up as the very thing which he used to despise – in Michael’s case a gangster, in Mutimer’s a capitalist. Even as a great a novelist as Gissing, however, could not touch Francis Ford Coppola’s skill for storytelling. It was above all Coppola’s genius which took a pulp novel and elevated it to the level of high art.  

Contemporary critics were slow to appreciate Godfather II’s weight. “The plot defies any rational synopsis,” was a common criticism, and the point is a fair one. There is no real plot. Broadly it is a dual story of the rise of the Corleone mafia family in the 1920s, interspersed with its decline in the 1950s. Initially this dual structure was scolded for making each half of Part II merely a bookend to Part I, which had been set in the 1940s. Moreover, the entire sequel seemed confusing and unnecessary. Yet within a year of its release, all criticism was forgotten; it was hailed as better than its predecessor and became the first sequel ever to win Best Picture at the Oscars.

Godfather II cannot be appreciated in one sitting; it needs to be rewatched. The truest test of a work of art is endurance, and on every rewatch both Godfathers reveal themselves in fresh colours and nuances; the depth of the tragedy and the mechanisms of the plot become more and more impressive; and to each of us at every stage of our lives they speak something equally valid but always different.  

Al Pacino is in the role of his career as Michael Corleone, and the genius of his performance is written into every frame. In the final flashback scene, when suddenly the cold, power-obsessed gangster is shown as the grinning young man of decades earlier, Pacino communicates the change silently in a single shot. His body language and facial expressions instantly say everything. Robert De Niro is restrained yet imposing as the young Vito Corleone; Robert Duval somehow ever likeable as the family’s consiglieri; Diane Keaton a forlorn and trapped voice of reason; John Cazale hapless but increasingly tragic as he is driven by desperation to the betrayal of his brother. 

Throughout, the atmosphere is held up by glowing, painting-like cinematography and period detail which, whether set around turn-of-the-century Sicily or revolutionary Cuba, never overbears; it is utterly engrossing for its near three-and-a-half hours. The film’s final third – in which heavier music and gloomy lighting mirror the moral corruption of Michael’s soul – is by far its greatest. A lesser storyteller would have killed Michael off (which is what happened in the abomination that is The Godfather: Part III), but here Coppola is wise enough to end with him alive, sitting alone brooding over his sins. That, surely, is more subtly tragic than the assassination which is the usual stock of the gangster genre.  

As a whole The Godfather: Part II is so absorbing that – when it ends, and Nino Rota’s wailing, haunting score signals the credits – one is left with the grief, thrill, and astonishment that can only be stirred by an artwork of rare and great power. The vivid images and the gloomy dilemmas of every character play on the mind for weeks afterwards. It remains the absolute high point of all cinema. In fifty years since 1974 no other film has matched its universality or power. It is doubtful whether, even by 2074, anyone will have produced anything of the same calibre. 

Why the SU failed (and how we’ll fix it)

By
Danial Hussain
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Image Credit: James Morrell

“People may say the SU is unsalvageable. In the current system, they may be right. But… through fundamental reforms, it can change.” – Danial Hussain, Presidential Campaign Manifesto. 

When I wrote those lines, I was in the same boat as many students are now, feeling both disillusioned and disappointed with the Student Union (SU). 

Disillusioned because the SU’s engagement with the average student seemingly amounted to little more than a free pizza voucher at the Freshers’ Fair – a symbol of its distant and seemingly unimportant role in the broader university experience. 

Disappointed because I firmly believed the SU was meant to be much more than this. It seemed natural that in a university of 39 distinct colleges, a collective student voice through the SU could wield more significant influence than the isolated efforts of any individual common room. Yet, this vast potential was going unrecognised, which was a disservice to the students. 

So, to help bring about the change I believed was necessary, I decided to run for President. 

Once elected, it quickly became clear that I had underestimated the magnitude of the task at hand. Systemic factors, which I thought could be an asset in improving the SU, were actually holding back much of the necessary change. 

Yet, at the same time, it was clear that there was a route to overcoming them. Working with Campaigns, Sabbatical Officers, JCRs, and MCRs demonstrated how Oxford has so many talented, ambitious people working individually to make things better for all of us. The SU just needed a better structure to channel this commitment and enthusiasm together, so I got to work.

Now, just over a year after my election, the SU has announced its Transformation Plan, which has two simple aims: to resolve the systemic issues and unleash the SU’s potential. 

What’s holding the SU back?

Election after election, the pattern seems to repeat: candidates pledge to reform and increase engagement in the SU, only to leave students disappointed by the absence of real change and cementing a sense of scepticism about whether the SU can genuinely reform. 

I felt it too, and that’s precisely why the SU has introduced the Transformation Plan. It isn’t a quick fix for recent problems or a response the university has insisted on. The plan reflects months of dedicated work, initiated by my push for an independent review of the SU, and now acted upon by the Trustee Board and staff. 

We aim to tackle the the core issues at the heart of the SU – which are the cause of this recurring cycle of promises and unfulfilled expectations – head on, with a concrete pathway to change. The issues which perpetuate these systemic challenges are twofold: a lack of a clear identity as well as an inadequate institutional structure.

1. Lack of Identity 

The SU has an identity problem: students, Sabbatical Officers, the SU, and the University all have different ideas of what it should be. 

This ambiguity harms everyone involved. For example, while students elect Sabbatical Officers based on manifesto pledges, the University primarily sees their job as representing students on various committees. This discrepancy results in officers having limited time beyond their committee responsibilities to deliver the campaign promises that students rightfully have voted on – fuelling student resentment and eroding their trust in the SU’s effectiveness.

Similar confusion characterises the relationship between the SU and Common Rooms. Given the SU’s unclear identity, students often struggle to understand its role alongside already supportive JCRs and MCRs. This ambiguity can lead to missed opportunities where the SU could provide valuable assistance in ways the common rooms cannot- such as our independent advice service. 

Ultimately, these overlaps and lack of clarity make it challenging to recognise the contributions of the SU, and lead some students to question whether it is necessary at all. They also results in JCRs and MCRs being left without the support they may need. [AS1] 

2. Inadequate Institutional Structure 

Issues of identity are exacerbated by the current structure of the SU. The fundamental problem is that the structure of the SU mirrors the structure of other students’ unions across the country, which doesn’t fit well with Oxford’s unique needs. Our decentralised collegiate system clashes with the SU’s centralised approach, making it ill-suited to address the specific demands of Oxford students effectively. 

While Student Unions are the primary student body in most universities, Oxford, through its collegiate system, also provides student engagement through its common rooms. JCRs and MCRs serve as students’ main points of contact, possessing insights into student life that the SU, as a centralised body, often lacks. However, despite these advantages, the JCRs and MCRs are not directly involved in the SU’s operations or decision-making processes. 

Consequently, the SU’s ability to effectively represent students is ultimately constrained, as it does not fully leverage the unique strengths of our collegiate system. 

Is the SU necessary? 

If you’ve agreed with my points so far you might wonder why I’m still in favour of keeping the SU. I’ve argued that the SU is structurally inadequate to address the needs of Oxford students and that some of these are met by the common rooms anyway. So, surely, we should just get rid of it, right? 

Well, no. 

There’s a difference between labelling the SU unnecessary and labelling it ineffective. Just because the SU hasn’t fulfilled its potential in a collegiate system, doesn’t mean it never can. On the contrary, I believe Oxford needs an SU specifically because of its collegiate system. 

Oxford has 26,000 students dispersed among 39 colleges which are organisationally isolated from one another. If the SU could adequately integrate the common rooms into its governing structure, we could capitalise on the benefits of decentralisation, becoming a far more effective and efficient system than non-collegiate structured Students’ Unions. 

The SU could utilise common rooms to pinpoint student priorities and focus on projects that reflect those needs. This strategy would also give students and common rooms a strong incentive to engage, as the SU would address issues they care about. It would also mean the SU can collect data from all the colleges and lobby students at the most grassroots level, building support first on a college level – empowering students to advocate for change very effectively. 

This grassroots approach is far harder to achieve at non-collegiate universities and impossible when no central Students’ Union exists. However, before these benefits are realised, addressing the pressing structural concerns by rethinking how such an SU could look is imperative. 

What should the identity of the SU be? 

Oxford SU is different from most Students’ Unions. Operating within a collegiate system, there is already student representation in the form of common rooms in every college. Our SU must supplement their strengths and recognise their limitations. [AS2] [AS3] 

1. Making Common Rooms as effective as possible 

At Oxford, common rooms manage responsibilities that a traditional Student Union would. Students run for these positions because they care about their colleges, but might not have the right experience or training. There is an opportunity here for the SU to leverage its collective strength in helping common rooms fulfil their roles. 

This means offering training for all officers, ensuring they have the right skills to excel in their positions, compiling data between all the colleges so each common room has all the information it might need, and, when necessary, supporting common rooms when they are in conflict with their college and need independent advice. 

2. Supporting students beyond the colleges 

As integral as colleges are to Oxford life, students’ experiences extend beyond them. Issues can extend between colleges (such as college disparities), courses, and departments. There are also communities other than colleges, such as the socio-economically disadvantaged and those from specific ethnic backgrounds. Representation is needed in all these aspects of Oxford, and the SU should be there to provide it. 

Similarly, it’s important to remember that the colleges, as a collective, also constitute a broader community – the University. This broader entity needs student representatives to lobby for our interests, influencing critical university-wide issues such as access policies and environmental goals. The SU can serve as a central link between colleges, unifying and advocating for student interests in a way that ensures long-term, sustained influence over the University. 

What structure should the SU have? 

A new structure is needed to reflect this SU’s identity. This approach would integrate Common Rooms directly into the SU’s decision-making framework and enable all students to advocate and lobby the University and Colleges on issues important to them. This would ensure that the SU remains responsive to student concerns and actively involves them in shaping policies. Such a setup would also allow for policy development over a number of years, making lobbying far more effective. 

Moreover, this revised structure will enhance the SU’s transparency and accountability, keeping it open to constructive scrutiny from students. It will also preserve the SU’s independence from the University while fostering a stable, constructive relationship. 

Only by adapting the institutional structure, incentives, and culture of the SU can we ensure that it works for students and is attentive to our real day-to-day concerns. In the process of designing the new structure, you will have a say – we will be holding open consultations during Trinity Term in which you can offer feedback and help us make the SU work for you. The SU is at a crossroads, and you have the power to determine where it goes. 

Where we are now 

I hope I have shown that the SU can reform and that students will be represented far more effectively when it does. To get there, the SU has already made difficult yet necessary decisions. 

First, we have significantly reduced and repurposed the staff team. Given the ambitious scale of the ‘Transformation Plan,’ we are concentrating our efforts solely on this major reform and our essential activities. This reallocation of resources is crucial as it lays the groundwork for a long-term solution for the SU, ensuring that the transformation reforms are both effective and enduring. 

The second is reducing the number of sabbatical officers by half for the 2024/25 academic year. Let me be absolutely clear; this measure does not reflect the capabilities or performance of any individual officers. The reality is that the SU has spread itself too thin over recent years, leaving it unable to offer the right professional and personal support to Sabbatical Officers, and by association, to students. Our commitment is clear: such failures must never happen again and the only way to ensure that, at least initially, is to reduce the sabbatical officer team. 

Conclusion 

To all those who were like me – disillusioned and disappointed by the SU – now is the time to get involved. 

I have always believed that the SU could be so much more, and we now have a unique opportunity to realise its full potential. Only then can we build an SU that represents the very best of our university and its students. 

An Enemy of the People review: ‘Tragic but thought provoking’

By
Kiaya Phillips
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Ibsen has re-entered the drama scene with the current production of his classic play An Enemy of the People at the Duke of York theatre this spring. With big name Matt Smith in the lead role of Dr Thomas Stockmann, I anticipated big things for this production. As a lover of Ibsen (my favourite play ever being Hedda Gabler), I booked to see this months ago the moment tickets had been released, and safe to say I was not disappointed. 

Ibsen is known for his political style of theatre and his ability to intertwine narrative, character and social commentary seamlessly. This play was the best I’ve seen on the London drama scene for a while and certainly reawakened the politically active side of myself that has begun to dwindle in the depressing state of our current political climate. I felt both enraged and empowered upon exiting the theatre, just as I expect Ibsen intended.

The script was always guaranteed to be impeccable, as in my eyes Ibsen can never disappoint in his writing skills. However, it was also expertly adapted for a modern interpretation. From smaller embedded references to social media and the pandemic, to blatant smears against current politics (notably in hilarious references to Rishi Sunak), modernism was expertly crafted and integrated into the play without losing the integrity of the original text. Moreover, the breaks in the fourth wall during a period of audience interaction, was a risky but expertly and comically executed move from Zachary Hart as Billing. Having not read the original play myself, I would now be intrigued to do so, and note any further changes that have been made. 

The set was ingenious in its design, with the minimal furniture and the chalkboard walls which the characters used throughout to indicate additional props or changes of time and place. This made the transitions slick as there was less to do and also built anticipation as we watched them begin to sketch. Just before the end of the first half, we see the stage integrated into a blatant political statement as the characters took white buckets of paint haphazardly to the walls; literally whitewashing the set, thus externalising the implicit political whitewashing happening within the play. As the play progresses and complicates into blatant political frustration, we see the set morphs alongside the narrative. After the white washing of the walls we see a much more minimal set than what we opened with; just a few sparse chairs and an open fridge as opposed to the full living room/kitchen set up we had at the beginning. 

Matt Smith has his star moment as Thomas with the monologue just after the opening of the second half. He is exhausted by the political climate he finds himself in, but dynamic and powerful in his argument against it. Following the monologue we get a period of further audience involvement when Priyanga Burford (as Aslaksen) asks audience members to raise their hands and speak on why they agree or disagree with what the doctor has just said. This continued to enhance the political narrative of the piece and fit seamlessly into the narrative, which is always hard when choosing to break the fourth wall. 

After this moment, Matt Smith, and the stage by extension, is covered with paint as the other characters throw balloons full of yellow and black at him. We see them revolt against morality – ultimately what the doctor stands for at this moment. They choose to “save themselves” at the expense of their morals and values. In the scene proceeding this, to close off the play, we see the doctor and his wife Katherine Stockmann (Jessica Brown Findlay) offered a final chance at corruption as Katherine’s father Morten Kiil (Nigel Lindsay) offers them shares of the baths. We see a smidgen of hope as they reject it and stick to their guns, but also defeat in the fact that by doing so they have ruined the lives they have made for themselves, forced to leave the town and their lives there forever. A tragic but thought provoking end to the piece.

Cherwell Introduces: Menu3

By
Joseph Lomax
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Joining me this week, are four members of Menu3: Nicole 2nd year biochemist/lead singer, Jude 2nd year chemist/bass player, Dan music student/drummer, and Marcus 2nd year biologist/keys player!

The Somerville band told me all about their musical inspirations, their busy upcoming Trinity, how they have grown from passion project to ball-playing big-hitter, and the story behind their name…

How did you guys meet and form the band?

Nicole: Jude and I were doing problem sheets in his room, talking about mechanisms, and just fed up. I just wanted to do something fun and thought we should have a Somerville band. Jude would often play the bass alongside music, and Jude was friends with Marcus, and I was friends with Dan, and that’s how it began!

Can you describe your sound in 3 words?

Dan: Fun is the big word; fun is at the centre.

Marcus: Crowd-pleasers as well.

Jude: We can go with fun, definitely chuck in groove, and NOW, lively. We’re quite interactive. We are now anyway, we warmed into it.

Nicole: I thought Dan would say grooves. My word would be connected, we gel as a band – I feel that we’re making the crowd have fun.

Who is your biggest musical inspiration?

Marcus: If we look at our setlist I think we have about five Bruno mars and silk sonic songs…they’ve got to be one of our main ones.

Jude: The songs we choose are those we know people want to hear at an event – for me, I brought myself up as a rock bassist: I listen to a lot of Muse, but that’s not exactly our sound!

Nicole: I listen to Adele a lot, and I think we have similar vocal ranges, so she’s an inspiration for me.

Marcus: From a keys perspective, it’s the likes of Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, that sort of vibe.

Dan: Funk and soul of 70s and 80s is the stuff I listen to and love: Earth Wind andFire, Chaka Khan.  while not playing their music that’s where I derive the groove.

What is your favourite song to perform?

Jude: It changes with recency bias, when we learn something new, and it sounds good it immediately becomes our favourite – but Toxic!

Marcus: I’d agree!

Nicole: We’re more hype to play something we know the audience will like. And yeah, Toxic is a fun one to do as a band.

Marcus: It’s also important to stay on-top of trends I’d say.

How do you differentiate yourself from other bands playing at the same kind of events as you?

Dan: I think our approach is putting the crowd at the centre of the setlist. Other bands are more ‘muso-ey’, which can be good, but at functions you’re essentially a live hi-fi system.  

Jude: We choose songs that are by artists people love but aren’t being overplayed (entirely) – I’ve only heard one other group in Oxford do Toxic, so it feels unique to us.

Dan: Lots of bands have bigger sections as well. With 12-14 people on stage, these big heavy moving things have to be arranged for.  As a 5-piece rhythm section it’s easier to get songs in and out, we can move with the trends in a way that differs from other bands in Oxford.

What is your favourite memory together as a band?

Dan: One of our first gigs, in the college bar: we organized it and weren’t paid, but everyone knew us.  I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but the Somerville bar isn’t very impressive, so to see it rammed was crazy. I’ve never seen it like that, and I don’t think I will again.  

Nicole: My favourite experience was the last time in Terrace (Somerville bar). It was a big gig that made us known on the scene, and it was the beginning of our expansion for sure. As a self-organised student band, it’s often hard to get gigs that will pay you and treat you as a band; Terrace helped put us on the map.

Jude: Initially Nicole did a lot of the heavy lifting booking us gigs: the first five were thanks to her, and we now have people requesting us. I thought we were going to be chained to small venues forever, I never imagined we would be playing balls.

Speaking of, what balls are you playing?

Nicole: We have whole spreadsheet set up, and as Jude said we didn’t expect to get big so quickly. Our first gig was a half hour, unpaid slot at Mad Hatter. It was a small stage, I couldn’t hear myself, it was not the best experience.

Jude: We were still called Nicole’s band at that point; we didn’t even have a proper name…(with spreadsheet up) Ah ok so, we’re doing the 93% ball in 1st week, Corpus Christi Ball, Balliol Garden party, OUAPS ball, the Regents Park College Ball –and stay tuned, more to come.

How did the name come about if you were originally Nicole’s band?

Dan: Ok, so…we wanted it to be Oxford related. It’s from Menu 3 on the formal menu. The 3 is the standard menu – the meat and potatoes of the formal menu. So that’s kind of what the band is musically as well. It doesn’t take much scrutiny!

Jude: It grew traction for me when we heard people chanting it – Men-U-3! It’s got a nice ring.

You can catch Menu3 playing all across Oxford throughout Trinity – be sure to check them out!

“If you want to understand the mess we’re in today, you need to know some history.”

By
Amelia Dovell
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Image credit: Keith Barnes

Eugene Rogan, a historian of the Middle East and fellow of St. Anthony’s College is a tutor I feel slightly in awe of: charismatic and cheerful, fluent in several languages, always on the move to his next appointment, and for one of our classes, 3500 miles away in Cairo on a research trip. I spoke to him to learn how he came to be one of the most prominent historians of the Middle East. 

Rogan’s childhood was by no means conventional: “I was born in California, and had I grown up there, I probably would’ve been a surfer. Instead my folks dragged us off to Europe and the Middle East. I was 10 when we got to Beirut – we lived for 5 years in Lebanon. It was the outbreak of the Civil War which forced us to move – we sat through about 8 months and realised it wasn’t ending.”

This was 1975: The Lebanese Civil War would last 15 years, claiming 150,000 lives and displacing hundreds of thousands of people before it ended. Rogan’s family left and they lived in Cairo for the next 3 years. 

“The politics of the 1970s were so intense. I lived through, not just the Lebanese Civil War, but the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. When we were in Cairo, Anwar El-Sadat got on the plane to Israel, starting the whole Egyptian-Israeli Camp David process, which was amazing. These were big events, and I just don’t think any part of the world has ever been as interesting to me ever since. I think I was scarred from childhood.”

Rogan had lived in the Middle East as an expatriate, maintaining the ambition of returning to America for university. After studying Economics at Columbia University, he found himself drawn back to the Middle East, through history. “With all due respect to our colleagues and PPE, I found economics a very dry subject… I did a master’s in Middle Eastern Studies. And that was when for the first time I actually took some history classes, and I just loved it.”

“I made the fateful – and some would argue a terrible – decision to abandon the wealth and the career opportunities of a graduate in economics, to become a historian which prepared me for either driving a taxi or for being a professor. It was to prove the latter. And no regrets, looking back, but that was just sort of an unlikely trajectory. My first degree in history was my doctorate, which is a really weird way to go about it.”

Even at this point in his early career, Rogan had the linguistic background to open up a whole new world of source material, having learned Arabic in high school. For Rogan, his linguistic abilities not only play a huge role in historical research, but also the way he thinks.

“Language is the essential key for opening our understanding of other cultures. I just don’t think you can get there in translation. Languages gave me access to archives and sources that allowed me to really add value to our understanding of the history of the Middle East.”

Rogan pauses for a moment, to reflect upon the role of AI. “It may be the case now that we’re going to have such powerful translation tools, that it really will make redundant the need to study a foreign language to access documents and published sources in other languages.” 

“But even then, though, you’ll be able to translate documents and sources, you won’t have the same feel for a society that comes with the mental transition you have to make. I think differently when I’m thinking in French, or when I’m speaking in Arabic. The shape of your mouth changes, the inflection of your voice, the way you interact. You adapt to the culture of the language you’re using. And I think, no matter what AI does for us, it won’t give us that.” 

In the UK, the historical field still remains Western-oriented: only 13% of historians study the non-western world, even with the turn to a ‘global’ history from the 1990s onwards. One reason for it may be the barriers of language. “I think we suffer from the privilege of speaking the dominant world language.” Rogan remarks. “English speakers find that they can get by just fine in most professions, without mastering another language.”

“A good translation is a great door opener. I’m not going to say that the translation of text is the barrier to entering into the mindset of another society. But there is a higher degree of engagement that comes when you approach a society through its own language.”

Back to life as an Oxford academic, I asked Eugene about the role travel plays as a historian of the non-Western world. “It’s so much the fun of the job. I pat myself on the back for having the cleverness to choose a region that involves so many amazing destinations, that turns every one of my research trips into an adventure. Each of the times I’ve gone out to do field work as a period of the deepest personal enrichment: of friendships made, and of life lessons learned. It goes well beyond what I brought out of the archives.”

He recounts a time in Amman, Jordan where he undertook the task of going through Ottoman era land registers. “They couldn’t for the life of them understand why an American from such a prestigious university – they’d all heard of Harvard – was sitting in their land registry office, reading these dusty old records”

“One guy came over and said: ‘So you’re reading the books?’ I said, ‘Yeah’. He said, ‘Okay, I’ve got lots of documents from this region, back home, why don’t you come to my house, and I’ll show them to you.’

“I go to his house, and he gives me tea, we have a nice chat. ‘How about those documents?’’ I ask. He says, ‘No, no, there’s no documents. But let’s be honest. You’re reading the books to find the gold, right? The books will tell you so much. I know the land. If you tell me what you know, I’ll tell you what I know. Now we can find the gold together.’

The misunderstanding tapped into a tradition of local legends, of lost gold from the Roman era, still believed to be buried in the land. “He was completely convinced that I was trying to read through the Ottoman sources to get to the mystery of where they hid the gold. We kind of disappointed each other because he had no documents for me, and I had no gold for him. He was so convinced that I just was like, holding out trying to keep the gold to myself, it was very funny… it’s those sorts of encounters of your fieldwork that you just feel like gives you something that goes well beyond what you find in the archives.”

These sorts of stories remind us of how history is, in many ways, still living. And for this reason, Rogan’s work is undoubtedly informed by contemporary events in the Middle East. “What makes history relevant is the understanding it sheds on how we got to where we are today.”

“In a lot of my writing, I’ll always start with something quite contemporary. And the underlying message is if you want to understand the mess we’re in today, you need to know some history.”

“When you work on the Middle East, there are so many tensions and conflicts. In geological terms, you’re dealing with a zone full of fault lines. And there are just these constant natural disasters – so you want to study the fault lines and the plate tectonics that lie beneath them.”

I asked Rogan about whether there existed a divide, separating academia from the general audience. “I  think there are two levels in which academic historians operate.” He said. “One level is very much for the Academy… read uniquely by fellow scholars. This is how we get our tenure, we get promoted, you get published journals that have peer review. We do it not just for our promotion, but we do it also to push forward the barriers of academic knowledge. And I think we all begin like that – we’re demonstrating that we are active contributors, as academic practitioners.”

This changed with the publication of his 2009 book, ‘The Arabs: A History’. “I had been in the profession for 18 years. And at that point, I wanted to try and reach general readers, to share the fruits of my research and studies in a way that was accessible for people who are interested in the region and interested in history.”

“That was a real change of voice. And to be honest, I haven’t gone back since. Everything I’ve written since I’ve written with my ‘public intellectual’ voice… It’s a different role. I think both are great. I think both have different rewards. I don’t think you have to go the route of becoming a popular historian and a public intellectual. But if one decides to do that, it’s totally legitimate, and it has its own pleasures associated with it. 

Rogan’s newest book, ‘The Damascus Events’, recounts an event from 1860, yet it resounds even today, in 2024. It focuses on a Christian massacre that took place in Damascus in 1860, an event which Rogan calls a ‘genocidal moment’. 

“The first half of the book traces mounting tensions, that took a fully integrated Christian community and transformed into a group of people who came to be perceived as an existential threat. Then, you have to address the issue of what happens to a deeply divided society after a traumatic and divisive event like a massacre.”

“The second half of the book traces — over about 25 years – the steps taken by the Ottomans, not just to rebuild the Christian quarters, but to restore the Christian community to their economic role. But to overcome the divisions to such an extent that by the 1880s, you could really say that the communities had buried the hatchet and turned the page.”

“I hope that this book says there’s no quick fix, but there is a pathway. In that sense, even here, a book that was written about 19th-century Damascus, has a moral that is relevant to our concerns today. Not just in the Middle East, but wherever you’ve seen ‘genocidal moments’ that led societies to that brink, of saying extermination is a reasonable solution. And then asking: ‘how do you come back from that brink?’”

‘So a hopeful conclusion?’, I ask.

“As I tell people, the book starts really badly, but it has a happy ending.”

With thanks to Eugene Rogan for this interview.

There’s no ‘I’ in team… or is there?

By
Zoe Williams
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Image Credit: Jen Ross/CC BY 2.0 DEED via Wikimedia Commons

The high-octane, champagne fuelled world of Formula 1 draws in tens of millions of viewers every year, and rightly so. The combination of ultra-high-speed racing and split-second decision making ensures it is one of the most exciting sports available today. But when I first became invested in the sport, what intrigued me most was the team structure – how could F1 possibly function as a team sport when there is only ever one winner? 

Each driver’s biggest competitor will always be their teammate. The playing field between them is levelled as they are driving the same car and so outperforming one’s teammate is purely down to skill. Not only are they competing to keep their seat in future seasons, but if one driver can establish their dominance over their teammate, then they will take priority for strategy and team orders where applicable. This fight is intensified even further in middle-of-the-pack teams because the drivers are more easily replaceable, and both scoring points and proving oneself is much harder. There is also less guarantee for finding a seat elsewhere if a driver does lose their position in a team. Quite often in these teams there is also competition with the young talent in the form of reserve drivers – most notably in Singapore 2023 where Liam Lawson provided Alpha Tauri’s (now RB) highest finish of the season on his Formula 1 debut. 

Whilst teams often encourage healthy competition between their drivers, rivalries can quickly become detrimental for the team, as was the case for Alpine in 2023. Esteban Ocon and Pierre Gasly have never been the best of friends, but Alpine had hoped that they would overcome this for the sake of an all-French line-up. However, crashes between the two drivers resulted in double DNF’s for the team in both Australia and Hungary. This is why driver selection is one of the most important decisions a Team Principal can make. Friendly competition is inevitable, but not only do antics like those of the Alpine drivers cost the team millions in car repairs (and themselves in grid positions if caps are exceeded); but additionally, every position lost in the Constructors’ Championship represents a loss of $9 million in prize money at the end of the season. 

In stark contrast to this, perhaps the greatest example of teamwork in recent F1 history was in Abu Dhabi in 2021. Sergio Perez’s refusal to allow Hamilton the easy overtake resulted in his Red Bull teammate, Verstappen, making up almost four seconds against the Mercedes driver, putting him safely back in the fight for the win and therefore the championship. The move provided no benefit to Perez’ own race or personal standings but was arguably integral in leading to his teammate securing his first title in the Drivers’ Championship. However, don’t mistake this to mean Perez and Verstappen are the best of friends; in Brazil in 2022, Verstappen disobeyed direct team orders to give his place back to Perez in order to improve Perez’s chances of beating Leclerc to P2 in the Drivers’ Championship. At the time Verstappen had already won the Championship, and the position had been Perez’ earlier on in the race. Allegedly, he refused the swap due to Perez’ apparently intentional crash at Qualifying in Monaco earlier that year, which resulted in Perez starting ahead of Verstappen and led to him winning the Grand Prix. To directly ignore team orders in this manner is extremely uncommon. Not only would the switch benefit Perez without  any negative consequences for Verstappen, but the extra points would also be crucial to the team in securing their position in the Constructors’ Championship. Whilst we can never be sure if Verstappen’s reasons really were related to Monaco and revenge, his actions nonetheless raised a worrying question for the team: not only because there was evident tension between their drivers, but also because they had little guarantee that team orders would be respected by either driver going forward. 

There are also plenty of cases where team orders can be at the significant expense of one driver. In Australia earlier this year, a bad crash in Free Practice resulted in Alex Albon damaging the chassis of his car. In order to save money, Williams don’t have a spare chassis on hand, meaning they would only have one car competing for the rest of the weekend. Given that Albon is the more experienced driver and therefore considered to be more likely to score points, it was decided that he would drive his teammate Sargent’s car for the remainder of the weekend. The move was widely supported by pundits as it was seen to be ‘for the good of the team’, but when Albon failed to pick up any points, it left many fans resenting the Williams leadership for prioritising Albon so significantly, especially when he was responsible for the lack of a second car anyway. Many teams do have designated first and second drivers based on performance and experience, but this can lead to despondent drivers if they feel they aren’t being recognised. Arguably most famously, after a severe crash caused a double DNF in Azerbaijan in 2018, relationships between the then Red Bull drivers reached breaking point as Ricciardo refused to be a second driver to Verstappen, resulting in him leaving the Red Bull team. However, many would argue that this was the beginning of the end for his career – perhaps a driver is better off being the ‘designated second driver’ in a winning team than the prioritised driver in a team lower down the standings. 

When drivers are faced with expiring contracts, a spanner is thrown in the mix depending on who terminated the contract. Hamilton’s decision to leave Mercedes at the end of this year could lead the team down one of two pathways: do they prioritise Hamilton as a sign of respect for the many years of success they had together so as to give him as good a send-off as possible? Or do they focus their efforts on Russell who is arguably more committed to the team and who Mercedes are likely to want to hold on to for several years to come? On the other side of the equation, Sainz has something to prove both to Ferrari (as he surely wants them to regret dropping him), but also to the rest of The Paddock (with the hopes of securing a seat for next year). I’m sure he feels that finishing on the podium of every race he’s driven in this year is a good start! Additionally, there is little incentive for Sainz to obey team orders which aren’t in his best interests as there are minimal consequences and he surely doesn’t feel he owes Ferrari anything. 

With at least twelve drivers out of contract at the end of this season, it is likely that several driver line-ups will change, resulting in new rookies, new rivalries and new challenges for drivers and strategists alike. It is evident that team dynamics will continue to play a crucial role in the politics of F1, and I, for one, am looking forward to sitting back and watching it all unfold. 

Exclusive: Nancy Pelosi, Jose Mourinho and Patrick J. Adams to speak at Oxford Union

By
Emily Henson
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Image credit: Anita Okunde /

Cherwell can exclusively reveal details of the Oxford Union’s Trinity 2024 term card. Speakers include 52nd Speaker of the US House of Representatives Nancy Pelosi, football manager Jose Mourinho and actor Patrick J. Adams. 

Nancy Pelosi will give the Benazir Bhutto Memorial Lecture, and then later participate in a debate on populism with PoliticsJOE journalist Oli Dugmore. Pelosi, a Democrat, has held the position of Speaker for a total of eight years over two terms. She has enabled the passing of landmark bills such as Obamacare, the American Rescue Plan Act of 2021 and repealing the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. Notably, she presided over both of President Donald Trump’s impeachments.

Football manager Jose Mourinho is one of the most decorated managers in the sport. Recently added to the Italian Football Hall of Fame, he has led both Porto and Inter Milan to Champions League wins, being the youngest manager to reach 100 Champions League games. While he was overseeing Chelsea, the team broke the record for fewest goals conceded in a Premier League season. He has also managed English teams Manchester United and Tottenham Hotspurs, as well as Real Madrid and Roma. 

Patrick J. Adams has previously starred in ‘Suits’, receiving a Screen Actors Guild Award nomination for his role of Mike Ross. Adams co-produced the show from the third season onwards, also directing several episodes. In 2022, he performed in the Broadway revival of ‘Take Me Out’, which received a Tony for Best Revival of a Play. 

This term’s debates will include a debate on the future of the European Union, one on whether Britain is still a fighting military force to mark the anniversary of D-Day on the 6 June and a comedy debate with Caspar Lee and Tom Rosenthal. Additionally, floor prizes available include a night’s stay at Store Hotel with cocktails and breakfast, and a three course meal at The Perch. 

There will be a panel on judicial interference with a Pakistan Supreme Court Justice as well as one on the upcoming American election. The Rt Hon. The Lord Sewell of Sanderstead will deliver a talk entitled ‘The End of Race – The Real Drivers of Black Success’. 

Socials will include a Midsummer Night’s Dream themed ball, a piano concert and reception sponsored by Kawai and a beer garden. 

Discussing the upcoming term card, Oxford Union President Louis Wilson has told Cherwell: “I am delighted to present the term card for Trinity 2024 at the Oxford Union. We have endeavoured to reflect the diversity of voices within our membership for our events this term. There is the opportunity to challenge Nancy Pelosi one day and learn from Jose Mourinho the next.

“I am particularly proud to celebrate the Union’s military heritage with a debate to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the Normandy Landings. I sincerely hope everyone can find an event or social which they are interested in.”

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