Peter Chen at Home

Category: Cherwell

  • Police ban Oxford asylum hotel protest under public order act

    Thames Valley Police (TVP) has banned a planned anti-immigration protest and counter protest due to take place tomorrow at an Oxford hotel which houses asylum seekers. The ban is due to a football match taking place nearby.

    Cherwell understands that an anti-immigration protest was planned outside the Holiday Inn Express hotel near Kassam stadium, and that a counter protest by local community groups was planned for 12:30pm. The hotel houses asylum seekers, most of whom are believed to be male.

    Oxford United is due to play a home game at the Stadium tomorrow at 3pm. The police have issued a dispersal order in parts of Littlemore from 8am on Saturday to 8am on Monday, as well as imposing Public Order Act conditions which ban these protests from taking place between 12:30pm and 7pm tomorrow.

    The police have the power to direct people who are, or are likely to be, engaged in anti-social behaviour away from the area covered by the dispersal order under the Anti-Social Behaviour, Crime and Policing Act. If these individuals return to the area, they may face arrest.

    A senior police officer is able to impose time restrictions on any planned protest under the Public Order Act 1986 when they believe the restrictions are necessary to prevent disorder, damage, disruption, or intimidation.

    These protests come after Hadush Kebatu, a convicted sex offender from Ethiopia, was accidentally released by the Home Office instead of being deported. He was arrested by the Metropolitan Police in London on 26th October, and has since been deported back to his home country after being paid £500 by the government under the Facilitated Returns Scheme. The government has pledged to close all asylum hotels by the next general election.

    Regarding the protest ban, Assistant Chief Constable Tim Metcalfe said: “Everyone has the right to protest peacefully, but we will always take appropriate steps to ensure our communities remain safe.

    “We are aware of recent tensions involving anti-asylum seeker protesters and residents of the Holiday Inn hotel. We want to be clear: any criminal activity – whether from protesters or residents – will not be tolerated.”

    Disclosure: the author of this article is a volunteer with a local refugee charity, Asylum Welcome.

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  • Students frustrated over filming at Brasenose College during exam season

    Students at Brasenose College expressed their frustration last week after scenes for a forthcoming sequel to My Fault: London were shot on the College’s grounds. At the time of filming some students were still sitting their preliminary exams.

    Filming began on Monday 23rd June, with production crews descending on key locations, including the Old Quad, Porters’ Lodge, and Brasenose Hall. 

    The film crew occupied the College on Tuesday 24th June, with the Hall closed for filming between 7.30am and 11.30am. As a result, the College’s breakfast service was reduced to takeaway only. Several staircases and public access routes were affected, causing what one student described as “a surreal and noisy detour” on the way to the library.

    Thursday brought further disruption, with the College’s library closed between 7am and 8.30am. Compounding the disruption was a 120-student Literature Study Day scheduled at the same time – which saw students, extras, and visitors gathered on Old Quad, something normally forbidden. Scenes filmed in Deer Park and New Quad also led to intermittent delays.

    One first-year student told Cherwell: “I had an exam on Thursday, and I couldn’t revise in the library that morning,” whilst another added: “It’s hard to understand why it had to happen during ninth week. For some of us, this is the most stressful time of the year.”

    Students were informed about the filming in advance through an email from Brasenose’s Domestic Bursar. The Bursar stressed that “we [the College] are very conscious that this is still term time and some students still have exams”, thanking those members of the College “who have helped us plan this disruption in a way that minimises the impact on our students”.

    Despite College’s attempts to minimise disruption, several students expressed their frustration to Cherwell, with one noting that the filming “does raise important questions about the values of College: Does it care about its students, or is it only about making as much money as possible? 

    “When you can’t even talk without being shushed in a space that is meant to feel like your own, in the middle of one of the most stressful periods of your life, it really makes you question what College’s priorities are.”

    The College Bursar told Cherwell that “the College always seeks to balance the need to generate income with the College’s primary academic purpose … We undertook an impact assessment within college before we agreed to the filming and decided we could accommodate it. 

    “Despite this planning, we underestimated the impact of the filming. We apologise to the members of College affected, particularly to students with exams at that time. As always, we are reviewing this event to understand any lessons for the future.”

    The film, a sequel to a popular Amazon Prime film exploring a taboo romance between two step-siblings, is believed to feature scenes set in Oxford to capture the female protagonist’s university years. 

    This is not the first time in recent history that Brasenose has hosted filming crews. The College has featured in several titles including Emerald Fennell’s black comedy thriller Saltburn in 2023.

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  • Racism tarnished my European year abroad experience

    We’re often told that a year abroad in Europe is meant to be the time of our lives. It can be both intellectually enriching and personally fulfilling to spend a year in a foreign country, learning a new language and connecting with a different culture. As someone who spent a year doing just that, I can tell you that in many ways, I learned more during those twelve months away from Oxford than in the two years I spent there. I picked up rowing, learned Dutch, and explored areas of my discipline that were not on offer back home.

    But for some of us, that’s not the whole picture. Because when you’re abroad and visibly different, even the most mundane experiences – like buying fish at a market – can turn into moments of confrontation, confusion, or fear.

    This year, even though I was technically living in the Netherlands, I found myself back in Oxford more often than I expected. Partly because I missed my friends: many of them are graduating this summer, and I wanted to spend more time with them before they left. But there was another reason, one I don’t usually talk about.

    As a person of colour, I found living in the Netherlands unexpectedly difficult.

    I want to be clear: I don’t claim to speak for anyone else. Everyone’s experience abroad is different, and this is just mine. But having lived in Leiden for nearly ten months, I can say I was racially harassed and abused on a regular basis.

    Some of it was subtle. One afternoon in a shop, wearing my puffer jacket — the only warm coat I had — a man approached me.

    “Do you go to Oxford?” he asked.

    I smiled. “Yes, I do.” As the first in my family to go to university, I carry enormous pride in that.

    He frowned. “Well, that can’t be right.”

    I froze. “What do you mean?”

    “You don’t look like you go to Oxford,” he said. I must have looked confused, because he scoffed and added, “You know what I mean.”

    I didn’t reply. I walked away, unsettled and unsure if I’d imagined it. But I hadn’t.

    Then there were other moments, uglier ones. Soon after I arrived, I visited the famous Saturday market in Leiden; in a tradition dating back centuries, farmers and fishermen would bring their fresh produce and set up stalls around Nieuwe Rijn – literally ‘New Rhine’ – with bikes and fresh tulips adorning the canal path.

    On that visit, I had a handful of herring and hatred from the locals.

    First, a group of young men screamed ‘Chinese’ (pronounced SHE-nase in Dutch) to me and my friend; we shrug it off. Then, an old man stops me in my tracks, blocks the busy pavement, and starts lecturing me with everyone else around us watching. My mind goes blank. What is happening? His speech is mumbled and hard to discern, all I could comprehend is something along the lines of how no one speaks Dutch anymore. Passers-by stared. I stood frozen. When he finally walked away, I did too, numb and shaken, unable to understand what had just happened to me.

    I stopped going to the market.

    If you know me at all, you’d know that this isn’t my normal style. There are lots of reasons for that. Often, when minorities speak out about their experience of hatred and bigotry, they are simply met with more vitriol and abuse. Some will say I made this up; some will call me an attention seeker. At the same time, writing about these things is hard; it is both mentally demanding and emotionally exhausting to dig up something that I would much rather never have to think about, let alone write down.

    Sometimes I also wonder why I have to do this at all. Why I need to remind people that Europe isn’t just cobbled streets and cathedrals. That your experience in Burgundy or Bologna may not be the same as mine. That people who look like me move through the world differently. My friends, who spoke so fondly of their time abroad, meant no harm. I don’t blame them. And the vast majority of Dutch people I met were warm, kind, and patient with me as I struggled through conversations in my broken language.

    All I want to tell you, dear reader, is that the next time your friend comes back from their time in Europe, in the quieter moments between the funny stories of that time in an Irish pub or failing that language exam, ask them gently: What was it really like?

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  • Review: Crocodile Tears – ‘Techno-futuristic, but why?’

    There is a lot to like about Natascha Norton’s Crocodile Tears. Female lead Elektra Voulgari Cleare is both electric and effortlessly elegant, and male lead Flynn Ivo delivers a gripping performance that is both emphatic and earnest. I was particularly moved by the opening scene (on screen), where the chemistry between the actors felt piercing and palpable. The lighting, led by Felix Gibbons with assistance from Euan Elliott, masterfully blends the on-screen material with the real world, skilfully bridging the digital divide.

    Indeed, I was drawn in by the multi-media nature of the production, a format that is both new to me, and to student production in Oxford generally. Norton and the Director Rosie Morgan-Males must be applauded for boldly taking an experimental approach to theatre, and the misgivings expressed here should not discourage them, or any aspiring artist from pursuing boundary-breaking experiences that challenge our conventional understanding of this ancient medium.

    However, whilst I was impressed by the technological experience, I was at times distracted by the abrupt transitions between screen, stage, and sound. For example, within a single scene there would often be dialogue that is spoken, played, and shown on screen. Although this was an interesting idea, I wasn’t entirely sure why this decision was taken: why was it necessary for the actors on stage to suddenly stop speaking and for their dialogues to be played? For example, in one of the scenes where the characters were having an intensive dialogue about their relationship, the female lead suddenly stepped off the screen into real life in order to converse with her digital interlocutor. This transition took me out of the emotional elements of the scene, which were otherwise well done.

    I was also puzzled by the themes of this production and the medium through which Norton had chosen to deliver it. Labyrinth Productions has frequently chosen plays which focus on questions of intimacy and relationships, having just come off a high-anticipated run a few weeks ago with the play Closer. Crocodile Tears is no different. The overriding conflict in the story was between two main characters – or perhaps I should say a lead and her supporting actor, as Cleare had significantly more stage time than Ivo – and the gradual breakdown of their relationship over an undefined period. It is therefore curious that Norton chose this techno-futuristic format to deliver this production, as it did not immediately seem clear to me what the added value of partially digitised dialogue is.

    This choice reflects a broader trend in contemporary theatre towards digital integration. As Jesse Green wrote for the New York Times recently during the Tony awards, “virtual scenery reached critical mass on Broadway.” It is no secret that stage productions are increasingly adopting digital formats, often due to lower costs as well as to appear more modern. And modern this play certainly was, integrating amongst other things a dialogue between the female lead and ChatGPT. My misgivings about AI in theatre aside, I was disappointed by how the chatbot was used, as it produced generic sounding responses that could very easily have been spoken by a human (and not the sycophantic rant these models tend to give). And indeed, much more work could have gone into the sound engineering, as the films shown on screen were both too loud and too quiet at different moments.

    Speaking to members of the audience after the production, many shared their confusion at the plot of the story, which was convoluted and fragmented: the relationship appears suspended in time, with neither a clear beginning nor a satisfying resolution, and the tensions in each scene was never resolved. Of course, I suspect that plot was not the focus for Norton in this production; the programme simply invites us to enjoy the ‘haunting soundscapes and Virginia Woolf-style lyricism.’ Ultimately, though, Crocodile Tears does too much of everything to fail at mastering anything, an admirable attempt at abolishing anachronism that ultimately ends in aimlessness.

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  • Review: The Great Gatsby – ‘Indulge the extravaganza’

    Sophia Eiden’s production of Simon Levy’s script of The Great Gatsby is an undoubted triumph. I was, if only for a moment, transported back to the Roaring Twenties; to a bygone era of excess, extravagance, and endless exhilaration.

    The setting of Trinity College gardens only heightened this sense of temporal dislocation. One could easily imagine such scenes playing out there a century ago. The costume and set design team, led by Mikela Persson Caracciolo and Naomi Flexman, struck a delicate balance: faithful to the period yet refreshingly tasteful to the modern eye. Most impressive of all was the live band – a rarity in student theatre – which injected the performance with an energy and vibrancy that elevated the entire production.

    Directors Izzy Moore and George Loynes have coaxed exuberant, nuanced performances from the cast. Isabel Clarke imbued Daisy with such quiet anguish that even the glint in her eyes seemed to ache, pulling the audience into her heartbreak. In her, I could feel – and I don’t know whether this was intentional – fragments of a certain Princess of Wales, who was equally trapped in a loveless marriage. Alexander McCallum brought a nervy, moral intensity to Nick Carraway, exposing the shallowness of the Jazz Age with each incredulous glance. I was left utterly terrified by Gillies MacDonald’s Tom Buchanan, whose handsome rage was both palpable and authentic, whose silence often spoke louder than his words.

    Less convincing, however, was Dominic Murphy-O’Connor’s portrayal of the titular character, Gatsby. At pivotal moments, his performance faltered; not for lack of talent, but for a want of emotional depth. Some of his most charged scenes were undermined by audience laughter, and the lack of chemistry between him and Clarke made their supposed romance difficult to believe. I was, however, moved by the love affair – albeit brief – between Nick Carraway and Tessa Yates’s Jordan Baker. Yates’s performance was sharp, poised, and deliciously sly; her Jordan had McCallum’s Nick chasing his own tail.

    As great as the rest of the production was, I must express some misgivings about the choreography. The problem isn’t that Elektra Voulgari Cleare and the directors failed to create convincing movements that utilised the extraordinary space they were provided. Quite the contrary, in fact. The overall flow of the play and complete immersion of the audience from all directions were huge strengths of the production. However, the cast – especially the leads – did not seem to be very committed to the few dance sequences, and it gave the impression that dancing was a box to tick rather than an extension of the performance.

    The true standout performances of the show, however, were those of Jane Brenninkmeyer and Fynn Hyde. Brenninkmeyer’s short but powerful portrayal of Myrtle moments before her death sends shockwaves through your bones and brought me to the verge of tears. I could feel her (and George Eustance’s George B Wilson’s) desperation in their circumstances and the feeling that they’ve lost control over their own lives. At the same time, I was completely mesmerised by Hyde’s Chester McKee. Though the role was minor, Hyde brought compelling complexity and fantastic flair to a character who has long intrigued readers, myself included, and he offered a version of McKee that was richly idiosyncratic. In some ways, Hyde was exactly how I had imagined Mr McKee, and more.

    Altogether, this production is a dazzling indulgence, a celebration of all that makes Fitzgerald’s work so enduring. Everyone involved should be deeply proud. For those lucky enough to catch it, this is a Gatsby worth getting lost in.

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  • “I now live in constant fear” – UN judge convicted of enslaving woman sentenced to 6 years in prison

    Lydia Mugambe 50, a UN judge convicted of keeping a woman as a slave in her home in Oxford whilst she was studying for a DPhil in law at Pembroke College, was sentenced to 6 years 4 months imprisonment at the Oxford Crown Court yesterday (2 May).

    In March of this year, a jury found that the victim cooked, cleaned, and cared for Mugambe’s children from 6am to 10pm for no compensation, whilst Mugambe kept her passport and travel documents from her. The jury also heard evidence of intimidation and threats against the victim from Mugambe, including one incident where Mugambe threatened to cancel the victim’s visa and exposing her to the authorities when she asked to be paid.

    She was sentenced on one account each of facilitating a breach of UK Immigration laws, keeping a person as slave, trafficking a person into the UK for exploitation, as well as intimating the witness to prevent her from testifying.

    Caroline Haughey KC, prosecuting, read for the court an impact statement from the victim, who cannot be named for legal reasons. In her statement, the victim explained how these crimes have affected her everyday life since she reported Mugambe to the police, stating that: ‘I live in constant fear … I don’t sleep most nights. I have stopped speaking to most of my friends. I used to enjoy going on walks with my friends and singing and dancing to music … I now mostly sit alone in my room with my laptop.’

    The court also heard how Mugambe attempted to silence the victim by contacting her pastor back in Uganda in order to pressure the victim into dropping the case against her.

    Mugambe repeatedly shaked her head in disbelief whilst the impact statement was read out.

    The prosecution pointed out that Mugambe has shown no remorse in this case. In fact, the judge explained that Mugambe continues to see herself as the victim in this case.

    Mr Justice Foxton sentenced Mugambe to 6 years 4 months imprisonment, half to be served on license and credit given for time served on remand. The court also made references to a potential arrangement where Mugambe would serve her prison sentence back home in Uganda.

    A restraining order was agreed which prevents Mugambe from contacting the victim, and a compensation order was made to repay the victim of her lost wages. During the defence’s remarks to the court, Mugambe made an apparent attempt to seek a restraining order against the victim; this was not acknowledged by the court as it did not have such powers over the complainant in a case.

    Ch Supt Ben Clark, of Thames Valley Police, speaking to Cherwell after the sentence was passed, states that: “Modern slavery is an under reported crime and I hope that the bravery of the victim in this case encourages other victims of modern slavery to come forward.”

    A spokesperson for the University of Oxford states that: “The university is now commencing its own disciplinary process, which has the power to remove students convicted of serious criminal offences.”

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  • Meet the Oxford Kermit – Healthcare policy researcher by day, trenchcoat frog by night

    You must be living under a lily pad if you have not heard of – or seen on your Instagram feed – the infamous Oxford Kermit. Having amassed close to 10,000 followers in less than six months, the Kermit has conquered the hearts and minds of Oxford students and tourists alike. Known for his whimsical collaboration with colleges and departments of the University, one such post of the Kermit in iconic locations around Oxford generated over 40,000 likes and 200 comments.

    Cherwell sits down with the creator behind the internet phenomenon – Josh Nguyen – for a chat over drinks at the Handlebar Café on St Michael’s Street. Frequented by hacks and Brasenose second years alike, the coffee shop was busy on a warm and sunny Monday morning. Striding in his iconic trench coat, the amphibian orders a Good Morning Smoothie – “this is probably the best smoothie I’ve ever had” – and I ask for an oat latte before we get chatting. These are edited excerpts from our conversation.

    Cherwell: To get us started, why don’t you tell us a little bit about your background?

    Nguyen: Sure. My name is Josh Nguyen, I am currently pursuing a MSc in Applied Digital Health at Wolfson College. I’m from Iowa originally, and I studied biology at Yale for undergrad. After that, I moved to New York for a bit and worked in consulting in the healthcare industry. As soon as I started there, I was like, let me go back to school, and then came here. I don’t think consulting was for me.

    Cherwell: What interests you about healthcare?

    Nguyen: I think I’ve always been interested in medicine, I suppose, and helping people in that sort of manner. I grew up not really, I guess, having access to health care. I grew up in a low-income family, so we didn’t have health insurance. I think having that sort of lack is what got me interested in the first place. So, you know, when I went to college, I thought I wanted to pursue medicine. Still, I’m thinking about it, but kind of more on the edge about it. But I think patient care is so important.

    Cherwell: Why are you interested now in exploring health policy rather than immediately going to medical school?

    Nguyen: I think throughout college, I got really interested in LGBTQ+ health and realised how critical understanding politics is for providing greater health outcomes for them. It was something that I never really got to examine in my classes. So I started doing internships— for example I got to work under a senator, and got to see how legislation has a role to play in healthcare. That’s what got me interested.

    Also coming here – in my digital health class, I got to learn a lot about how policies can impact digital health and innovation, how we can reach people, and that got me interested. So it’s something that I definitely want to explore more of before maybe going to medical school or maybe pursuing something else.

    Cherwell: You said you are from Des Moines, Iowa. What was that like growing up there? I imagine there weren’t that many Asians there.

    Nguyen: No. There were hardly any Asian people. I think in my class there were a total of three out of a hundred. It was definitely difficult. I’m Korean and Vietnamese, so the nearest Korean town or Vietnamese town was in Chicago. It was a seven hour drive and we would make an annual trip there. I would just be so excited. It was definitely difficult, feeling a bit more isolated because of my racial identity.

    But getting to move to Yale afterwards was so eye opening because it was the first time in my life where I was suddenly surrounded by more Asian people and all this diversity. And then especially New York afterwards, it was just so amazing. I remember when I first got to Yale, I was crying so much. Everything was so overwhelming and so different from Iowa. Now I’m more acclimated. And I love Iowa. The people are so kind. There’s that phrase, Midwest nice. It’s something I carry with me. I hope people think that I’m Midwest nice. They’re so friendly, so amazing.

    Cherwell: Let’s talk about the Kermit. Did you bring him today?

    Nguyen: I did! I always carry him around with me just in case, and I put him in this black bag.

    Cherwell: He’s bigger than I thought!

    Nguyen: He’s bigger? Most people say he’s smaller than they imagined.

    Cherwell: So how did you come up with the idea of like the Oxford Kermit?

    Nguyen: I think prior to coming to Oxford, I just knew I wanted some fun way to document my year here. I thought “what’s a fun, interesting, cute way to do this”? I thought it’d be fun to take pictures of some sort of doll or something like that, so let me go on Etsy and see what’s out there.

    I saw this Kermit dressed in a trench coat, and I was like, this is so Oxford. That’s exactly what I had in mind in terms of the image of an Oxford person. And then when I got the doll, I was like, wow, he’s so cute.

    Then when I came to Oxford, I immediately started documenting my time here. I think deep down I knew that I wanted it to not really be a personal thing. I wanted to share it with people, and I did want to go out there and have people see it.

    Cherwell: What has the response been like?

    Nguyen: It’s been crazy. So much bigger than I anticipated. In my head I thought Oxford was going to be a more serious place, and I didn’t know if people were going to really receive it that well. But immediately as I started, it kind of just grew exponentially right away.

    And as I kept doing it, it just blew up more and more. I got collabs with Oxford University,
    and all of a sudden, I got thousands of followers and I was like, dang! This is amazing. That catalysed all the collaborations afterwards. The first college collab I did was with St. Catz, and then I just went on and on afterwards. And then now there’s departments, and student clubs.

    Cherwell: Do you ever get any hate?

    Nguyen: I think I recently saw on Oxfess that “I wanna drag Kermit to the Ninth Circle of Hell.” And I’m like, what the? Like, honestly, that made me laugh because I’m just like, how can you have hatred towards a doll? It’s kind of funny, honestly. Overwhelmingly, the comments and what people say to me are just so positive.

    Cherwell: Why do you think it resonated so much with all students?

    Nguyen: I actually get this question quite a lot. I think for the deeper, more human content that’s on there. I think people resonate with that because it takes more complex feelings and expresses them through something familiar and cute. It makes it more digestible in that way. I think for the funny, more light-hearted content, people like it because it gives them a refreshing break from their studies, from the intensity of [university].

    I think it also just reminds people of how beautiful Oxford is and what else is out there, minus all the stress. Oxford has so much to explore, and I think it reminds them of that. I think it’s a nice way to escape.

    Cherwell: You’re finishing your course soon, so what’s next for you and what’s next for the Kermit?

    Nguyen: That’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. For me, personally, it’s still kind of up in the air. I really have learned to love the UK as I’ve stayed here more and I do think that I wanna stay here longer. So I’m gonna try for that. My original plan was just to go back to the US, either New York or DC, but I don’t know. I think with this whole Kermit thing, I’ve realized how much I like social media, and that’s something I wanna pursue, and I’d love to pursue that in London.

    As for what’s gonna be next for Kermit, that’s also something I’ve been thinking about a lot. I don’t know, is my answer. I think I would like it to keep going but I’m not sure exactly how that would work. Maybe I can hand it over to someone, but I’m open to ideas.

    Cherwell: I’m now going to ask you some controversial Oxford questions, and we can get the Kermit’s take on them?

    Nguyen: Alright, okay.

    Cherwell: First question, gown or no gown at formal?

    Kermit: No gowns. Just trench coat.

    Cherwell: Sub fusc for exams?

    Kermit: Absolutely not. To be honest, I’m gonna show up in my sweatpants or something that I’m comfy in. I already studied so hard, why are you asking me to put on an entire sub fusc? This is gonna stress me out even more. So absolutely not.

    Cherwell: Favourite nightclub?

    Kermit: Oh, I’ll have to say Plush. They’re really nice. I mean I obviously don’t really like any of them but Plush is the best in my opinion.

    Cherwell: Rowers. Yay or nay? Would you date a rower?

    Kermit: Yay. Yes.

    Cherwell: What are your thoughts on trashing?

    Kermit: I think there’s a better way to go about it. Let’s make it more environmentally friendly and still do that tradition. Maybe not confetti but something else. Like flower petals maybe.

    Cherwell: The Oxford Union?

    Kermit: I think sometimes they serve and sometimes they don’t. I think sometimes they have iconic people like Julia Fox. But I think the membership fee is too high. Let’s discount that and it’s a yay from me.

    Cherwell: Do you think we should remove the Cecil Rhodes statue?

    Kermit: Let’s remove it and replace it with a statue of Kermit.

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  • Intermezzo review – Chess, law, and the philosophy of language in yet another Rooney masterpiece

    I thought it perplexing when told that Intermezzo felt similar to other works by writer Sally Rooney. Certainly, it shares some familiar ingredients: it’s set (mostly) in Dublin, explores personal relationships, and the characters seem to have perpetually miserable lives. Yet the resemblance stops there. Rooney’s new book is a bold exploration of love and grief, and an exposition of how not all of life’s problems can be solved by logic and intelligence.

    The epigraph of Intermezzo is taken from Part II of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations: Aber fühlst du nicht jetzt den Kummer? (Aber spielst du nicht jetzt Schach?) (But don’t you feel grief now? (But aren’t you now playing chess?)) The (nonsensical) question is posed in the context of ‘language games,’ a central tenet in Wittgenstein’s philosophy in which he rejects a general definition of language or words and adopts instead the ‘meaning as use’ concept. In this view, words (or sentences) do not have set definitions, but their meaning depends entirely on how they are used.

    Take the word ‘game’ (spiele in the original German). What’s a game? The problem isn’t that the reader cannot conjure one singular definition of ‘game’; rather, the meaning of the word changes depending on the context in which it is used. Wimbledon is hardly the same as hide-and-seek, say. In the quote, Wittgenstein discusses grief as a pattern (Muster) that weaves through life. In contrast to chess, though the statement ‘I do feel grief now’ is logically permissible, such a response fails to capture the atemporal and personal nature of grief.

    Indeed, much like grief, philosophy and logic are deeply woven into the fabric of Intermezzo. Peter and Ivan Koubek are brothers. Peter is a moderately successful Dublin-based barrister in his thirties, and Ivan is a touring chess prodigy whose glory days are behind him. In typical Rooney fashion, the story revolves around love in its various instantiations: the Koubek brothers’ love for their late father, Ivan’s love for an older woman, and Peter’s love for his former partner who is unable to have sex due to a recent accident and his current, more youthful companion.

    The central struggle in the story is one between the two brothers. They deeply resent each other, that much is clear from the start. Why? From the surface, the two seem like they would get along: both Ivan and Peter are clearly highly intelligent, and they both have careers that revolve around using logic to solve complex problems. They also both seem to be entangled in complicated age-gap relationships. The law, of course, is a much more social profession than chess, and the shared dating dilemma seems to alienate rather than unite the pair. In fact, our perception of the two will change drastically throughout the book.

    Take the following exchange between the brothers. At dinner, Ivan states that Peter can’t be a coward because he speaks in court every day, something most would find intimidating. In response, Peter states: ‘Not if you were good at it. No. It’s easy to do things you’re already good at, that’s not courageous. Trying to do something you might not be capable of doing… We’re being hard on ourselves in a way, he remarks, because both our lives involve some voluntary exposure to what other people might call defeat. Which I think requires a certain degree of courage. Even if just psychologically.’

    In which Ivan responds: ‘I don’t know. I don’t think I cope with it all too well. It bothers me a lot to lose. It bothers me a lot too, says Peter.’

    In many ways, both characters are embodiments of their profession. Peter is cool, calm, and composed, and especially adept at both social situations and tricky conversations. Much like the law, when presented with a tricky moral question and unorthodox arrangements, he suffers what can only be described as a complete meltdown. Ivan is nervous, reflective, and deeply kind. Bashful as a bishop, he’s nevertheless unafraid to trade and make sacrifices for the things and people he loves.

    By setting grief beside logic, and chess beside law, Rooney exposes the limits of systems that promise order while life remains defiantly unruly. The Koubek brothers’ problems are never solved by the cold elegance of an opening or an overlooked precedent; instead, they are revealed, move by messy move, as an attempt to translate private anguish into language that others might understand.

    That effort, Rooney suggests, is the real game. One without clear rules, clocks or victors. When the novel closes, nothing has been solved, yet something has shifted: grief is acknowledged, love is embraced, and the silence between two men sounds a little less deafening. If earlier Rooney books questioned whether intimacy could survive economics, Intermezzo asks whether it can survive logic itself. The answer is qualified but hopeful, delivered in prose that slips between clinical precision and romantic ache.

    So yes, the novel still roams Dublin streets and fearful millennials in messy relationships. But to dismiss it as more of the same is to miss the daring way Rooney turns a philosophical foil into a fierce tale of love and loss. Readers willing to sit with ambiguity – who can bear, for a while, to feel grief now – will find in Intermezzo the author’s most incisive and, paradoxically, consoling work to date.

  • UN judge studying for Oxford DPhil convicted of enslaving woman

    A United Nations judge studying for a DPhil at Oxford University has been found guilty of modern slavery, witness intimidation, and immigration offences at Oxford Crown Court. The prosecutors alleged that Lydia Mugambe, who also served as a High Court judge in Uganda, held her victim as a slave in Brasenose Drive, Kidlington, just a few miles north of the city centre. 

    The victim, who cannot be named for legal reasons, worked as an unpaid maid and nanny whilst Mugambe studied for a DPhil in law at Pembroke College. In the College’s 2021 MCR Freshers’ Guide, when asked what advice she would give to new students, Mugambe said that they should “live in the moment”.

    The jury heard evidence that the victim worked from 5am to 10pm doing school runs, making dinner, and putting Mugambe’s children to bed without compensation, as Mugambe kept her passport to prevent her from leaving the UK. It was also alleged that Mugambe pressured the victim into dropping the charges against her.

    According to the evidence, the then Ugandan Deputy High Commissioner, John Mugerwa, sponsored a visa for the victim to work at the embassy, which he was entitled to do as a diplomat, after agreeing with Mugambe that she would work for the judge as a slave instead. In return, Mugambe agreed to use her influence to assist Mugerwa with legal troubles back home.

    The jury unanimously convicted Mugambe of conspiring to facilitate the commission of a breach of UK immigration law by a non-UK national, requiring a person to perform forced or compulsory labour, and conspiracy to intimidate a witness.

    An investigation was also launched against Mugerwa. However, he could not be charged, as the Uganda government refused to waive diplomatic immunity, which protects him from criminal proceedings in the UK.

    Mugambe has served as a judge for the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals since 1st July 2024. The Mechanism serves residual functions for the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, including conducting investigations and prosecutions against war criminals who were not apprehended during the existence of those tribunals. Mugambe’s term is scheduled to last until 30th June 2026.

    During the arrest, Mugambe repeatedly claimed that she too holds diplomatic immunity by virtue of her appointment to the Mechanism. According to Thames Valley Police, any immunity was waived by the Office of the United Nations Secretary General.

    Mugambe matriculated in 2020 to read for a DPhil in law at Pembroke, where she served as treasurer of the College’s Middle Common Room. Whilst she was a student, Mugambe was also involved with the Oxford Human Rights Hub, whose mission is to “strengthen and develop international human rights law through the exchange of knowledge and best practice”.

    Reacting to the news, one current Pembroke student told Cherwell that he was left “shocked and surprised”, adding that it was “completely unexpected” something like this could happen at Oxford.

    Commander for Oxfordshire, Chief Superintendent Ben Clark said: “Lydia Mugambe is an extremely qualified lawyer, a Ugandan High Court Judge and a UN Criminal Tribunal Judge.

    “Mugambe used her position of power as well as her knowledge of the law to take advantage of the victim, ensuring that she would become her unpaid domestic servant.

    “I want to appeal to anyone who is a victim of modern slavery or suspects that modern slavery is being committed to contact Thames Valley Police. We will listen and we will help you.”

  • The Case for No: Why JCRs should motion to disaffiliate from the National Union of Students


    The Hilary Term university-wide referendum (with only 5% turnout), resulted in the Oxford University Student Union’s (SU) continued affiliation with the National Union of Students (NUS), a nation-wide organisation of university and college students that has been recently been plagued with allegations of antisemitism and abuse. With 56% voting to remain affiliated and 42% wanting to disaffiliate, it was a yet another resounding NO for the question of whether the SU should sever ties with the NUS.

    This was not the first time the university has held such a referendum, nor was Oxford the first university to hold such a referendum this year: back in 2016, the first disaffiliation referendum in recent memory failed with similar margins but much bigger turnout (27.7%). In the last 6 months, student unions from the universities of Warwick, Brighton, Queen Mary and Reading all voted to disaffiliate for essentially the same matters I am now raising for debate: how the NUS treats Jewish students. Much can be said about how the No campaign at Oxford was run this time around, but I would be amiss to obsess over that result. Oxford students voted and we must all respect that. However, I am here to make the case that JCRs, being separate legal entities from the SU, should and must all vote to disaffiliate from the NUS.

    Before I dive into the issues, however, I will make a few preliminary points. 

    First, time is of the essence. If your JCR’s constitution is anything like mine, there is only one opportunity every year to review its affiliation. For Brasenose, this is at the upcoming fifth week Trinity term meeting, and the JCR Secretary is required to propose the motion. So, if after reading this article you are indeed convinced, read up on your constitution – or change it, it’s easier than you think – and start proposing those disaffiliation motions. 

    Second, I understand and appreciate that this is a deeply personal issue for some students, especially Jewish and Arab students, so I sincerely hope that any conversation that you may have about this topic will remain respectful, cordial, and productive. 

    Third, the point of this article isn’t necessarily to advocate for disaffiliation, however counterproductive that may seem. I don’t claim to be an expert on the NUS by any means, and so I cannot predict the practical consequences of disaffiliation with any degree of accuracy. Rather, I am making the case for No in the hopes that it will encourage the crucial dialogue amongst students so we can have the conversation that we should have had last term, about antisemitism, about the Israel/Palestine conflict, about which organisations we choose to affiliate ourselves with and why. What I don’t want, is for JCRs to blindly subscribe to organisations that we know little about and ask ourselves what happened after the fact when things go horribly wrong. And horribly wrong things did go.

    The NUS has an antisemitism problem. This is no secret to anyone who has been following the saga around the ousting of their last President, Shaima Dallali. The Government, in their press release announcing the suspension of relations with the organisation, said that the antisemitism issues are ‘well-documented and span several years.’ This is all because the NUS commissioned an independent report by Rebecca Tuck KC, a horrifying account of how Jewish students were mistreated and ostracized for anyone who’s bothered to read it. I will detail some of her findings now. 

    In a 2017 survey about the experience of Jewish students, a whopping 49% stated that they would not feeling comfortable attending NUS events. According to Ms Tuck, this figure would be no better today. What then, exactly, has gone so wrong for a near majority of Jewish students nation-wide to feel uncomfortable attending events hosted by an organisation that is supposed to represent all students? 

    In her report, Ms Tuck details how Jewish students were alienated due to their perceived affiliation with ‘Zionist’ viewpoints, and how such an environment went unchallenged within the NUS. When these students brought complaints and sought redress within the organisation, their concerns were dismissed for ‘bad faith’ or improper motive, and this resulted in a culture of hostility towards Jews. She also found that Jewish students suffered harassment related to their race and or religion which the organisation’s policies failed to address, in a potential breach of the Equalities Act 2010. 

    The following is worth quoting in full: ‘It is apparent from this report – and indeed from other reports over the last 17 years – that the culture within NUS and at NUS events has been perceived by many Jewish students, for good reason, as hostile.’ (emphasis added)

    Here are some accounts of the experience of Jewish students at NUS conferences: 

    ‘There was an open endorsement of violence against Israeli civilians and Zionist sympathisers at NUS Society and Citizenship Zone Conference in 2011 without challenge. This made me feel unsafe as a Jew and I left the event early. I did not attend any more Zone events.’

    ‘At the 2016 conference there was a motion for the NUS to mark HMD [Holocaust Memorial Day]. I was really really shocked that someone could speak against the motion. The person who spoke against had prepared a speech, removing the Jewish nature of the Holocaust talking about gay / Roma / communist etc. victims. Megan Dunn [then President] spoke up and asked why there was a problem marking the centrality of antisemitism in the Holocaust. I had never before come across people who genuinely did not understand the antisemitic nature of the Holocaust. For that position to be applauded was very shocking. It had been tabled to be a unifying motion.’ (emphasis added)

    As one Palestinian delegate wrote:

    ‘Antisemitism plagues every part of the NUS…. As a Palestinian, I find it deeply offensive that support for Palestinian human rights is being used to mask blatant antisemitism. The conflation between the conflict in Israel-Palestine and British Jews must stop. Our Jewish students cannot be made to feel responsible for a conflict that is being waged thousands of miles away. They cannot be made to feel unsafe, as they are hounded and targeted at our university. Instead, we must listen to them and act on their concerns. The advocation of Palestinian rights and valid criticism of the Israeli government should never lead to or justify racism against Jewish students in Britain.’

    This must stop. As many have pointed out, the NUS is committed to addressing these concerns and to transform this hostile culture. However, as Ms Tuck notes, ‘[altering] a culture is a notoriously difficult task.’ It is only right that JCRs motion to disaffiliate from this organisation in order to signal our trenchant condemnation of the antisemitism within the NUS and send a strong message about our values and beliefs. No one should be made to feel unwelcome because of their race or religion, and this is especially true for a national organisation that is supposed to represent all. 

    There are, however, broader lessons to take away from this experience. As Ms Tuck notes, this culture of hostility is directly linked to the Israel/Palestinian conflict, which in turn stems from the conflation of British Jews and the Israeli government. Anecdotal accounts tell me that this may also be true in Oxford, although I cannot confirm the extend or severity of these issues. It is crucial that we, as a university, do not slip into the same toxic mindset that has plagued the NUS for the better part of the last two decades. We must always, always remember that a person’s political opinions are not defined by their race or religion, and we must never allow Jewish students to feel unwelcomed based on what their perceived views are.

    This is why I want you, the reader, to propose and fiercely debate disaffiliation motions within your own JCRs. This is an important conversation, and it goes to the heart of who we are as Oxford students and what we believe in. At the end of the day, whether our JCRs our affiliated with this one organisation is of little significance. However, what is important is that the message is loud and clear: hate, in any form, must never be tolerated as we work towards becoming a more inclusive and welcoming university for all. 

© 2025 Peter Chen