The importance of theatrical freedom

We have already forgotten that Britain, land of liberty and bastion of free speech, gagged the theatre for nearly 200 years. There was no appeal: the Lord Chamberlain's power was absolute. Ibsen was cautioned, Shaw was banned, and, as late as 1957, Tennessee Williams was consigned to a Private Club for mentioning (in A Cat on a Hot Tin Roof) that homosexuality might just possibly exist.

Waste, and its author, Harley Granville-Barker, were also victims of the Lord Chamberlain. His controls did not apply to the press, to publishing, films or broadcasting. It was only the theatre that suffered. It was not allowed to grow up until 1968.

During all those years, how many authors, when they looked at that blank sheet of paper, thought that whatever the strength of their ideas, there was no point in writing their new play because it would assuredly never get past the censor?

Waste (to me, the most perceptive play about politicians since Shakespeare) has had little chance to emerge in its full wit and brilliance. It is an ideal play for an Election Year, particularly apt in the politics of our bewildering times.

"We poor politicians must work double-shifts for our bread-and-butter while we are in opposition. It's hardly safe when you are in office to hold on to a share - much less a directorship. How is the wretched capitalist to live?" This is not an extract from the Today programme, but a speech from Granville-Barker's Waste.

The first version of the play was finished in 1907. It demonstrated that there was little place for ideals in politics: what mattered was the possible - and more than that, the deal that made the possible, possible. The play also featured a refusal to resign, a sexual scandal and a tragic abortion. It was, of course, immediately banned.

Barker took years to recover from the ban. The Lord Chamberlain's official objection to the play cited "Extremely outspoken reference to sexual relations" and "a criminal operation". As the Lord Chamberlain had earlier licensed a play called Votes for Women, which referred to abortion, there is good reason to believe that Waste was found undesirable because it lifted the lid on the inescapable cynicism of politicians. The abortion issue was a good excuse. The play was not popular in Westminster.

The Lord Chamberlain had another function: he was in fact an instrument of the reigning Establishment. His presence created a climate of caution which was quite as dangerous as his direct censorship. In the declining years of the censor's office, I experienced something of this power myself.

In 1966, Peter Brook and Denis Cannan devised a Royal Shakespeare production for me at the Aldwych Theatre which was called US. The play was critical of the American intervention in Vietnam at a time before press or public questioned it.

A few days before US was due to begin previews, I was asked if I would go and have an out-of-office-hours drink with the Lord Chamberlain. This was an unusual invitation. The Lord Chamberlain (the runner of the Queen's Household) did not normally meddle directly with plays. He left that to a group of advisers who were mostly retired naval officers. I presented myself at St James's Palace and was given sherry. The Lord Chamberlain put a question which went something like this: "Do you think it right that a major theatre company, in receipt of public funds, should present a play criticising our great ally, with whom we have a special relationship?" I deliberately spoke of Freedom of Speech. I also pointed out that the theatre was forbidden to hold opinions that were contentious because of a set of rules that did not apply to newspapers, books or broadcasting. The Lord Chamberlain heard me out with courtesy. He then sighed and said that while he had noted my comments, he had to warn me that he would be having a word with my Chairman. Happily, I had a great and unconventional chairman, the far-sighted - and in many respects maverick - Sir Fordham Flower. Fordie greeted my report on the meeting with positive relish. He said that if the Lord Chamberlain couldn't find public grounds for banning the play, he should mind his own business. And that is what he said to St James's Palace.

So all ended well. But I realised how fragile my position had been, and how near the play was to extinction. The issue was at the very heart of why any of us work in the theatre.

Waste was not finally licensed until 1920; and not performed until 1936. In the interim, Granville-Barker re-wrote it entirely. The 1926 version of the play has the same characters, the same scenes and the same actions; but every line of dialogue is changed - and in my view, changed for the better. He also updated the play politically: the Labour party is now there, with its dangerous dependence on the unions. And Sinn Fein and the agony of Ireland is in the centre of the political agenda - then, sadly, as now.

Barker would be glad that the hard and bloody road that he and Shaw travelled finally won freedom of speech for the theatre. Any form of censorship, whether of art or information, always leads straight to corruption

'Waste' opens Friday at the Old Vic, London SE1. Booking: 0171-928 7616. Paul Taylor will review the play on Saturday