If I had attended Oxford just over 150 years ago, I would have had to swear loyalty to the Church of England. Of course, if I were attending Oxford in the mid-nineteenth century as a woman, I would have had bigger problems than religion, but we’ll put that aside for now. From 1581 to 1871, every Oxford student had to declare their fealty, not only to Christianity, but to its Anglican denomination. Muslims, Sikhs, Jews, Catholics, and many more were all excluded from its halls.
Obviously, this is no longer the case. The University’s ‘Opening Oxford’ exhibition in 2021 showcased the various ways Oxford has become more welcoming over the past century, presenting it as a secular place of education where religion is not a factor in treatment or experience. The problem is that this is not entirely true. Financially, culturally, and quasi-judicially, the Church of England remains part of the furniture in both the city and the University.
Fifteen colleges have senior members of the Church of England as their Visitor, making them the ultimate authority on college statute interpretation. This, admittedly, sounds quite dry – college statutes tend to include lofty preambles and regulations for trustees. But they also set out the administration of a college, the disposal of revenue, and the powers of investment. A Visitor essentially acts as a judge, interpreting the meaning of words within these statutes, then stating how they should be applied to a given situation.
A dispute about statutes would not go to the County Court, but to the Visitor, resulting in considerably increased expenses and a financial barrier to appeal. They hold considerable theoretical power over a college. But on what grounds? What expertise does the Bishop of Winchester have to determine how Trinity College is governed? With Oxford Action for Palestine (OA4P) calling for divestment from various arms companies, what qualifies the Archbishop of York to determine what The Queen’s College’s investment powers include? This is not a coincidence. The appointments are made ex officio, meaning that the Visitor for some of Oxford’s wealthiest, most influential colleges (including St John’s College, All Souls College, and Magdalen College) will always be the person holding a certain ecclesiastical position. This requirement imports an apparent religious influence into a key area of college for no reason other than historical precedent.
This is not entirely innocuous. The provisions that import members of the Church into colleges can be rigid and poorly-worded, and do not lend themselves to easy removals in the event of difficulty. In Christ Church, the statutes made it incredibly difficult to remove the head of the College, who until 2023 had to be a member of the clergy. This changed as the result of a six-year legal battle with the previous Dean, involving a pay dispute, an allegation of sexual harassment (which was settled), and £6.6m of college funds. With the Church of England beset with scandals, it is reckless to continue importing such figures into colleges with no safeguards.
In a subtler way, the Church of England is presumed as the default throughout college life. It’s not the only religion in Oxford – the colleges are non-denominational – and yet the vast majority still perform Anglican services. Yes, Mansfield follows the Nonconformist tradition, Harris Manchester has a Unitarian congregation, and various permanent private halls (PPHs) have Roman Catholic affiliations. The Anglican chapels too have an outward-looking perspective, and regularly arrange multi-faith services. But the novelty of such services underscores the foundational premise that the Oxford colleges are spiritually first and foremost spaces for the Church of England. You no longer have to swear an oath of fealty, but your pidge will be overflowing with leaflets for their services.
Christianity is centred and universalised in sharp contrast to other religions.This risks isolating atheist or non-Christian students from college welfare support, which is frequently tied up with the chapel. While Christian services make their way into colleges, other religions remain academic disciplines with associated societies. The University has a Centre for Islamic Studies and an Oxford Jewish Centre. Both are open to the public and members of the University for prayer, as well as study of the religions. An Anglican student at, say, University College, would walk past their chapel every day in college, able to reach it in minutes to attend a service. A Jewish student would face a 20 minute walk to Jericho. A Hindu student wouldn’t have anywhere to go at all – only last year was a community centre secured, and the University is yet to show direct support. Such an exclusion is doubly insidious given the presentation of the chapel and the chaplain as a welfare space.
A historical influence is one thing – Oxford is the city of dreaming spires, after all, and many of those spires are attached to chapels. But the Church should not be influencing how the University operates, nor how colleges spend money, nor how students are treated. It shouldn’t be doing so in opaque, unclear ways that are difficult to predict – when applying to Brasenose, I certainly didn’t know that the Bishop of Lincoln would be my ultimate authority.
The Church of England has been affiliated with Oxford for so long that it has blended into the background. Its influence over culture and governance is found in obscure PDFs, and bubbles under the surface until a scandal bursts the situation wide open. At the same time, it subtly reinforces the idea that, whilst Oxford is a place for everyone, it still welcomes some people more readily than others. This is not to say that Christianity has no part in Oxford. Merely, when roughly 50% of Britons say they have no faith, and global religions are growing faster than ever, Anglicanism should not be presumed default, and certainly not the authority.
