William Morris was a designer, craftsman, poet, novelist, printer, socialist campaigner - and even a committed environmentalist, despite being born in 1834 when industrialisation was in its infancy. He was born, and spent his teenage years, in Elm House, now the William Morris Gallery, a handsome Georgian country house standing in fine public gardens. The gallery is a cultural haven in Walthamstow, once a tract of rural Essex, now a crowded London suburb just a short tube ride from King's Cross. Visitors to the house can still sit where this eminent, big-hearted and hugely influential Victorian once sat at a window, reading and dreaming.
The gallery is a treasure chest of universally acclaimed, Morris-designed (and Morris-inspired) arts-and-crafts gems, together with works by Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones, as well as many others. When I visited recently, children from many cultural backgrounds busied themselves copying Morris patterns. They clearly loved what they were doing: Morris's bright, colourful work - rich fabrics, wallpapers and stained glass - seemed to speak to them. Children like the magical quality of the house itself, too. Most have experienced nothing like it; a world of beautifully crafted romance. The rest of Walthamstow is virtually bereft of such special moments.
And yet, despite being feted around the world, the gallery is under threat. The London borough of Waltham Forest says it needs to cut costs. It wants to drastically cut back opening hours and push its hugely respected keeper, Peter Cormack and his small team from their jobs. The aim, say many local people together with defenders of the gallery - including Tony Benn, and Morris's biographer, Fiona McCarthy - is to prepare the way for complete closure.
The move suggests that local politicians have little idea who Morris is, or why he matters. One, according to McCarthy, is even said to have described Morris as "just a white imperialist", an astonishingly vacuous claim that could not be further from the truth. During his hugely energetic life, Morris was responsible for resurrecting any number of craft skills. He was aware that well-made (and thus costly) Victorian goods tended to pander to "the swinish luxury of the rich", yet he knew it was better for ordinary people to make such things in well-run workshops, rather than in industrial sweatshops, whether in Birmingham or Calcutta.
The proposals by the council, which drew its motto "Fellowship for Life" from Morris's novel A Dream of John Ball, would all but snuff out this glimpse into his world; a place where everyone would live better, more imaginative lives, regardless of age, class, creed or colour. The council believes that his ideas have become obsolete - despite the fact that he came eighth in the Environment Agency's poll of the 100 most influential "green" campaigners last year.
Benn has written to culture secretary Tessa Jowell, asking her to overrule any decision to cut funding. The mayor of London, Ken Livingstone, feels equally strongly, pointing out: "Waltham Forest already has one of the lowest levels of cultural provision in the capital." The council has received thousands of letter of protest from as far afield as California and Australia, while more than 5,700 people have signed an online petition [www.keepourmuseumsopen.org.uk].
One of the many unanswered letters to the council, which is due to make its final decision imminently, is from Sharon Drew, a tutor in art and design at Waltham Forest College. "I continue to be amazed at the lack of imagination within this council," she says. "The Friends of William Morris have proposed creative ways of generating income and visitors - such as a new wing for a cafe, and a first-floor education and contemporary-exhibition space.
"The William Morris Gallery and Vestry Museum [a history museum, also under threat] are both fantastic resources in the borough and we are extremely lucky to have them. They are the first two items on any publicity for the borough, and should therefore receive investment rather than cuts. Why doesn't the council get it?"
· The William Morris Gallery is at Forest Road, Walthamstow, London. Tel: 020-8527 3782