On 19 February, 700 of the University’s notables filled the Sheldonian theatre for Lord William Hague’s formal inauguration as Chancellor of the Uuniversity. Magdalen choir, hailing from Hague’s old college, welcomed the Convocation with God Save the King, followed by trumpet fanfare. 

The Vice-Chancellor administered the Oath of Admission in Latin, and Hague swore, in reply, “Do fidem”. The Public Orator had questions about Hague’s grasp of the language, to which Hague replied, “Licente Latine loqui”, or, for the uninitiated, “Is it okay to speak in English?”. 

Marking his ceremonial accession, Hague shook the gilded university keys with comical vigour, hard enough to fill the Sheldonian with their chime and elicit laughter from the audience. Hague introduced a certain satire to the otherwise sober proceedings. He is known for his wit: the 2019 book ‘The Wit and Humour of William Hague’ is a “lighthearted look at some of William Hague’s contributions to the House of Commons, particularly those that were pervaded by a sense of fun”. The Public Orator confessed to having a fully read copy of the strange book on his bedside. 

Perhaps Hague’s satirical tone speaks to a feeling all too familiar for the modern Oxford student: a sense of alienation from the ancient gowns and aristocratic pomp of University proceedings. Hague arrived at Oxford as a comprehensive-schooled, working-class son of Yorkshire, hardly destined to be shaking the golden keys. But in the years since his 1979 matriculation, he’s not shown much scorn for the Establishment: from his tenure as President of the Oxford Union to his life peerage in the House of Lords.

A 1982 article in The Washington Post, written during Hague’s days as Union President, recorded predictions that he’d take the office of Prime Minister in the year 2020. It also records Hague’s place in the esteemed tradition of Union “hacking”: he reportedly chose a Magdalen College room facing the High Street so that he could watch who was going by and invite them up for drinks. 

In an address mostly free of politics, Hague condemned the “comfort blanket of cancellation” that threatens universities and applauded the government’s recent revival of the controversial Higher Education Act. This legislation will require universities to create codes of conduct to promote free speech on campus and create a new complaints procedure in the hands of the free speech tsar, the Office for Students. 

Perhaps referencing Labour’s scrapping of clauses in the act that could have potentially exposed universities to lawsuits from Holocaust deniers, Hague remarked that debating global issues should “never be an excuse for antisemitism or any other kind of religious or ethnic hatred.” Hague’s tenure will be marked by pervasive debates regarding speech on campus, as the University is forced to make concessions by platforming controversial speakers. A recent piece in The Oxford Blue records one recent instance, and more will surely follow. 

Oxford University, despite its centuries-old traditions, is always changing. Hague’s Chancellorship begins at a pivotal moment, as the University grapples with the tension between heritage and modernity, and the challenge of balancing free expression with the responsibility to foster inclusive academic spaces. Both of these points were clear in his ceremonial admission and will likely define his tenure.