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Student website Physics (MSc)

Burying Hester Bijl’s valedictory lecture: how a joke became a tradition

The valedictory lecture of former rector magnificus Hester Bijl was buried on Tuesday 12 May in the garden of the Kamerlingh Onnes Building (KOG). Where did this young, and slightly eccentric, university tradition come from?

Leiden University is known for its centuries-old traditions and long history. But the burial of rectors’ valedictory lectures is a relatively recent custom. The tradition is so new that university historian Pieter Slaman had not encountered it until recently. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of it,’ he said ahead of the ceremony. ‘I’ve never come across it in the historical sources.’

‘Nobody knew about it’

The tradition of burying rectors’ valedictory lectures began in 2007, when Douwe Breimer made way for Paul van der Heijden. At the time, Breimer had no idea that his final words as rector were literally being buried. ‘Nobody knew about it,’ laughs initiator Rinny Kooi.

Leiden University is attached to its traditions but not rigidly so, says Slaman. ‘We tend to think of our customs as ancient, unchanging traditions. But traditions emerge, evolve and sometimes fade away.’

In his research, he has found that traditions endure as long as they continue to meet a particular need. And sometimes they return in new forms. ‘The university logo, for example, only dates from the 1920s. It was based on the university seal from the 16th century, but for a long time it was barely used until it reappeared in the logo.’

Dead tree

Exactly what need this tradition meets is harder to pin down, says initiator Kooi. ‘It started as a joke.’

A silver birch planted in the garden after renovations to the Faculty of Law did not survive for long. As a biologist, Kooi had seen that coming. ‘At the time, the Dean of Law, Carel Stolker, asked me what the tree needed. I said: “A saw.” This tiny garden – more of a narrow courtyard really – just wasn’t suitable for a tree like that.’

Together with colleague Martien van der Hoorn, Kooi was asked to choose a replacement. They settled on a Gingko biloba. ‘They will grow almost anywhere.’ While planting the new tree, the two tree enthusiasts placed Breimer’s valedictory lecture among its roots.

Under threat

It was not until 2013 that Kooi and Van der Hoorn revealed that they had buried Breimer’s valedictory lecture beneath the Ginkgo tree. That same year, at their initiative, the valedictory lecture of Van der Heijden was also placed among the roots.

The fledgling tradition briefly looked as though it might come to an end when Carel Stolker retired in 202, in the middle of the pandemic. Eighteen months later, after three postponements due to covid, his words were finally buried , and the tradition was expanded to include a modest ceremony.

Funeral procession

And so, on Tuesday 12 May, a group of former and current rectors, university staff and students gather in KOG. Dean of Law Suzan Stoter welcomes those present. Among them are former rectors Douwe Breimer, Carel Stolker and Hester Bijl, as well as current rector Sarah de Rijcke.

Kooi is also there, recounting in her own distinctive way the story of the tree and the burial of the lectures. ‘Let us always cherish this Ginkgo,’ she tells the assembled crowd.

It is then time to move into the garden. Students bent over their books look up in surprise as the funeral procession makes its way through the library towards the tiny courtyard, where two spades are already waiting.

Before the digging begins, Sarah de Rijcke addresses those gathered. ‘This is definitely an unusual moment,’ she says with a laugh. ‘Every day you seem to discover another university tradition you never knew existed.’

Douwe Breimer, Sarah de Rijcke, Suzan Stoter, Rinny Kooi, Hester Bijl and Carel Stolker

Taking root

She then turns to Hester Bijl. ‘We often talk about the value of our long traditions. As the university’s first female rector, you play an important role in that history. Today we are burying your valedictory lecture. I couldn’t help smiling at first, but these kinds of symbols do matter. They are about what you leave behind as a leader.’

Bijl too sees the humour in the unusual ritual, having previously attended the burial of Stolker’s lecture. ‘Back in Delft, my colleagues looked puzzled when I told them I was going to this burial ceremony. Leiden is a university deeply rooted in tradition; today has reminded us of that once again. I hope my own words will also take root in fertile ground.’

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