And now, as I mentioned before, let me explain what I mean by fig-leafing.
The Party Center (the apparatus of the Hungarian Socialist Workers’ Party
Central Committee) — the parallel government, which was more powerful
than the civilian one — controlled every momentum of the country’s life, thus
Hungarian Radio, and, of course, our Drama Department. We were obliged to
produce a yearly plan of program, which the Head of Drama and Assistant Head
of Drama submitted to the competent Comrades in the Party Center building.
Much later, as a result of a process of “democratization,” the Comrades came to
the Radio, to discuss, and eventually accept the plan. The program plan listed
the plays to be recorded and broadcast, providing the name and nationality
of the author, the title and a short synopsis (three to five lines) of the play.
The “Comrades” controlled the “proportions” first. This meant the presence of
minimum seven Soviet radio-plays or stage adaptations, two items from each
OIRT country, "and about six British, French, and West-German plays.
An analysis of the themes (synopses) followed. What was required were the
absence of anything ideologically destructive and the presence of something
ideologically constructive. Judging the former (absence of anything
ideologically destructive) was easy, while the latter (presence of something
ideologically constructive) was actually incompatible with artistic autonomy.
And here follows fig-leafing: chiefly in the synopses of our Hungarian authors,
the pride of the Radio Theatre, especially if any of them wrote an original
(not simply adapted) radio-play. Their synopses were decorated with gems
like “deep humanism,” “sincere solidarity,” and “healthy critical spirit.”
Everybody in our cultural life acted similarly. It meant a safe journey; and
was not exactly lying, only being insincere. Did the “Comrades” swallow our
tricks? Who knows? They were probably satisfied with the knowledge that we
were behaving.
Let us return to our muttons with a very favorable development: in the
meantime, Hungary — with the permission of the topmost (Soviet) authority
— joined the European Broadcasting Union (EBU); as a result, Hungarian
Radio, or, more precisely, our Drama Department, became a full member of
the Prix Italia/Italia Prize contest, and submitted our first entry in the drama
category, printing fifty copies of the text translated into English and French.
Furthermore, Prix Italia expected every member to enter two radio-dramas
(and two radio documentaries) every year, or to delegate a jury member with
a good command of English or French; offered the opportunity to buy the two
prize-winners or any other entry — and to sell our own — at short notice; and
to make acquaintances, join informal discussions ad libitum. All this meant a
significant broadening of our horizons, especially those of Gabor.