The resignation of Sir Stephen Tumim from his position as Principal of St Edmund Hall has once again fuelled speculation that, behind the scenes, academic life can be a dirty business, writes GEORGE FREW.

Sir Stephen, 67, a distinguished judge, Oxford graduate, High Steward of Wallingford and former inspector of HM Prisons, resigned last Friday. "Differences in opinion have emerged over the interpretation of the role of principal which have proved impossible to reconcile," he said then.

St Edmund Hall replied with a statement which read: "We are grateful for his contribution to the college over the past two years and extend to him our very best wishes for the future."

In academic terms, it was almost the equivalent of Ginger Spice being forced to leave the band citing "musical differences".

So much for the language of diplomacy. Yesterday, Sir Stephen - held in high regard by 'Teddy Hall' undergraduates - was saying nothing, although his wife, Lady Tumim, took time to explain: "We have given an undertaking not to speak to the Press at this time. It would be inappropriate. As for my own feelings on the matter, I think you can probably guess what they are."

But dark mutterings of a cabal of tutors and fellows hostile to Sir Stephen and his gregarious ways could be heard loud and clear. Certainly, his popularity with the undergraduates, whom he supported on many issues, was in no doubt - which is why they will hold a sit-in protest demonstration against his resignation this Friday. "Sir Stephen had an open mind and he listened to what we had to say. He would discuss things with us," explained Junior Common Room President John Houghton. "The effects of him going have been unfortunate for the college and it has gone to show that those who said we could not afford to lose Sir Stephen have been proven right."

And another college source claimed: "It's no big secret that there were a group of people who tried their hardest to get rid of Tumim. All along the line, they were very unconstructive and made his job very unpleasant.

"It's certain that this affected him. It was the first time in a career in which he's faced a lot of challeges that he had to face them on that sort of bitter, personal level. A lot of fingers are being pointed at certain people."

Over to college vice-principal John Dunbabin, who, as you might expect, flatly rejected any 'Night of The Long Knives' suggestions regarding The Tumim Affair.

In his novel of university life and academic back-biting, the author CP Snow painted a picture of the sort of vicious in-fighting which he alleged took place in the groves of academe.

John Dunbabin was having none of it, though.

In cultured tones reminiscent of those of Bridsehead Revisited's Anthony Blanche, He said: "Some may imagine that these CP Snow politics go on, but it is just not so.

"That's not the way things are done. It's a myth to suggest that there are daggers drawn. There is no in-fighting here - we are an extremely united college." And had he got on well with Sir Stephen? "I had good relations with him. We dined in college together."

There have been reports claiming that Sir Stephen and the college bursar, Geoffrey Bourne-Taylor - once described as "an eccentric former police officer" - had not been on speaking terms for more than a year.

"That is just not true," said the vice-principal. Perhaps not, but CP Snow isn't the only writer of fiction to have portrayed academics in a less than flattering light.

In his Morse novels, writer Colin Dexter - a former academic himself - has often created Oxford dons who were much more sinister than the Mafia variety.

"I think I've been a bit cruel to them," he chuckled. "There is this Oxford disease thing, though - all those clever clogs, when you get a lot of them together there is a certain top of the head arrogance. It's part and parcel of it all. But most of them that I know are not as bad as I've portrayed them."

Hang on - what about Clicksby-Bream, a (college) master of malevolence in Death Is Now My Neighbour?

"Hmm, yes. Come to think of it, I've killed quite a few college bosses off - four, I think."

Oxford academic life is a cloistered affair in more ways than one. At times, when they close ranks against the Press or the outside world, the colleges can be harder to penetrate than the Freemasons or the Cosa Nostra. Fact may indeed be stranger than fiction. Sir Stephen Tumim knows, but he's not saying.

St Edmund Hall has spoken and that's that.

There may not, as vice-principal John Dunbabin said, be any daggers drawn.

But you suspect that any academic of influence knows where the daggers are kept - even in the most 'united' of colleges...

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.