How many actual Tories will there be at the Conservative conference?

Andrew Mitchell has his own reasons for staying away, but plenty of other Tories see little purpose in attending.

It is mildly ludicrous that Andrew Mitchell, the chief whip and alleged verbal abuser of police officers, won't be attending his party's annual conference next week. And yet it is not that surprising. He might indeed cause a "distraction" from the business at hand - his excuse for bunking off - and he doesn't have a departmental brief, so he doesn't need to make a speech. So the calculation for Mitchell personally is fairly simple: why bother?

A problem for the Conservative party is that he is not alone in thinking that. Tory MPs have been grumbling more or less openly about their conference and wondering aloud whether or not to show up. The complaint is a familiar one: the whole show is run by and for the benefit of David Cameron's clique; only the favoured, Osborne-groomed ministers will be allowed near a platform or microphone; the whole jamboree is really just an excuse to gouge money from corporate public affairs budgets. (Conferences are very lucrative for governing parties as they hoover up lobbyist cash.)

The same gripes can be heard on the periphery of the Labour and Lib Dem gatherings but in my experience it is the Conservative one that has been most dramatically hollowed out in recent years. (The Lib Dems have a residue of actual democracy at theirs, which makes it worthwhile for members to go and Labour numbers are bolstered by unions, which are a better at mobilising numbers than Conservative associations.)

More seasoned hacks than me were shocked last year by the absence of ordinary delegates at the Tory gathering in Manchester. Senior figures in the party were also alarmed by the sight of empty chairs in the hall when David Cameron gave his keynote address.

Cameron's leadership has accelerated the decline in grassroots participation in the conference. That was inevitable given the way the "modernisers" around the leadership sought to define themselves in explicit contrast with much of what the party had once appeared to represent. The battle-scarred infantry of the Tory wilderness years didn't exactly take kindly to the appearance of a pomaded young cavalry officer riding in and telling them their campaign medals were worth nothing and that their only hope was to march behind him to victory. (They followed him for want of a better plan and never forgave him when victory still proved elusive.) Coalition also means that ordinary Tory activists don't feel ownership of the government's programme. Lib Dems can at least cheer the basic fact of being in power; Tories can only mourn the fact that their power is diluted.

There was a peculiar atmosphere around those early Cameroon conferences. Pushy twenty-something aides and wannabe apparatchiks - barely distinguishable in appearance from their New Labour counterparts a decade earlier - darted around bewildered old gents in navy blazers and regimental ties. The apparatchiks are now ministerial bag-carriers, MPs - or in some cases ministers. The old gents are more likely to make the journey to a Ukip conference than a Tory one. It will be interesting to see how many local association Conservatives come to Birmingham next week.

A final thought on this subject. Ed Miliband has been criticised for failing adequately to challenge his party in Manchester last week. The allegation of tummy-tickling and comfort-zone-coddling is not unfair. As I wrote in my column this week, the specific claim that Miliband entirely ignores the deficit is wrong; the charge that he has yet to offer any practical mechanism for delivering better public services and reversing inequality when there is no money spare is closer to the mark.

It is certainly true that Miliband doesn't deliberately antagonise his party. This is a strategic choice he has made. He has had a look at the way Tony Blair used conflict with "old" Labour and Cameron has used "modernisation"as the device for grabbing public attention and defining themselves as leaders - and concluded that it is not a path worth pursuing. Why? Because it sows the seeds of division and future rebellion, corroding a base of support that is essential to sustain a long-term political project. Cameron must now deeply regret not securing a clearer mandate inside his party for the kind of changes he claimed he wanted to make.

The obvious downside to the Miliband approach is that it looks like weakness - leading in fear of alienating the most tribal element in the party which, by definition, makes it harder to reach across to swing voters. Miliband's "one nation" pitch is an attempt to hold the allegiance of the Labour faithful and extend an invitation to people who naturally support other parties. No wonder it is vague on policy.

There is every reason to think it can't work. Eventually, Miliband will have to confront sections of his party if he is serious about running public services on tighter budgets. There is no denying that Labour unity has been bought with evasion, or at the very least deferral, of some tough choices. But it is worth noting too that the much advertised alternative is over-rated. That is the macho confrontation with the party to prove that everything is changing and that the leader is something rather new and special. It is an approach that worked for a couple of years for David Cameron. It is also the approach that means his disloyal MPs don't feel like showing up to their own annual conference. (And the chief whip won't be there to chide any troublemakers who do go.)

Miliband is aiming for something else: defining his political project not by the dismay of Labour members but through their acclamation. Can it be done? Parties these days seem so marginalised and tribal compared to the rest of society that it seems hard to believe he can pull it off. It will certainly be fascinating to watch him try.

Tory MPs complain that the conference is "run by and for the benefit of David Cameron's clique". Photograph: Getty Images.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

Photo: Getty Images
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The buck doesn't stop with Grant Shapps - and probably shouldn't stop with Lord Feldman, either

The question of "who knew what, and when?" shouldn't stop with the Conservative peer.

If Grant Shapps’ enforced resignation as a minister was intended to draw a line under the Mark Clarke affair, it has had the reverse effect. Attention is now shifting to Lord Feldman, who was joint chair during Shapps’  tenure at the top of CCHQ.  It is not just the allegations of sexual harrassment, bullying, and extortion against Mark Clarke, but the question of who knew what, and when.

Although Shapps’ resignation letter says that “the buck” stops with him, his allies are privately furious at his de facto sacking, and they are pointing the finger at Feldman. They point out that not only was Feldman the senior partner on paper, but when the rewards for the unexpected election victory were handed out, it was Feldman who was held up as the key man, while Shapps was given what they see as a relatively lowly position in the Department for International Development.  Yet Feldman is still in post while Shapps was effectively forced out by David Cameron. Once again, says one, “the PM’s mates are protected, the rest of us shafted”.

As Simon Walters reports in this morning’s Mail on Sunday, the focus is turning onto Feldman, while Paul Goodman, the editor of the influential grassroots website ConservativeHome has piled further pressure on the peer by calling for him to go.

But even Feldman’s resignation is unlikely to be the end of the matter. Although the scope of the allegations against Clarke were unknown to many, questions about his behaviour were widespread, and fears about the conduct of elections in the party’s youth wing are also longstanding. Shortly after the 2010 election, Conservative student activists told me they’d cheered when Sadiq Khan defeated Clarke in Tooting, while a group of Conservative staffers were said to be part of the “Six per cent club” – they wanted a swing big enough for a Tory majority, but too small for Clarke to win his seat. The viciousness of Conservative Future’s internal elections is sufficiently well-known, meanwhile, to be a repeated refrain among defenders of the notoriously opaque democratic process in Labour Students, with supporters of a one member one vote system asked if they would risk elections as vicious as those in their Tory equivalent.

Just as it seems unlikely that Feldman remained ignorant of allegations against Clarke if Shapps knew, it feels untenable to argue that Clarke’s defeat could be cheered by both student Conservatives and Tory staffers and the unpleasantness of the party’s internal election sufficiently well-known by its opponents, without coming across the desk of Conservative politicians above even the chair of CCHQ’s paygrade.

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.