Is Bournemouth to be another Tory freak show?

The Prime Minister did what he likes doing best at Blackpool this week: taking on his own party and fighting the grumpy vestiges of Old Labour. This dinosaur reared its head on Monday, complete with its snorting cry of "card vote" and its distinctive animal noise of booing and slow handclapping at the appearance of a Treasury minister (Paul Boateng). But if the breed is not extinct, it is simply ignored by Mr Blair.

This was Mr Blair's ninth conference speech as Labour leader. It ran true to the form set by his first, when he defined his leadership by publicly dumping Clause 4 of the party's constitution. Whether it is at the TUC or the Labour Party, Mr Blair dares the old "forces of conservatism" to take him on and usually, after more snorting and puffing, they fall into line. It may be different this time, with increasing militancy in unions representing railway staff, fire-fighters and others in the public services.

One senses, however, that the Prime Minister is almost gagging for an industrial dispute as yet another way to show the public just how far he is prepared to go to take on the remaining dinosaurs. The speech, of course, with its talk of the enabling state (the title of a 1980 pamphlet by the No Turning Back Group) was pure Thatcherism – except Margaret Thatcher never quite had the courage. I would not have been surprised to see the Prime Minister wearing a blonde wig and swinging a handbag.

But whereas Mr Blair relishes the prospect of alienating his party members and trade union leaders, Iain Duncan Smith is a prisoner of and a hostage to his party. Think what it must be like as he considers the drafts for the speech that he has to make to his own conference next week. One of the first consequences of the fall-out from the Major/Currie affair will be the need to reach for the red pen to score out any mention of "family", "values", "marriage" or "morality".

This will need to apply not only to Mr Duncan Smith's speech, but also to every single shadow cabinet spokesman, MP and rostrum speaker if they are not to suffer the inevitable belly laughs from a media united in their determination to cry "hypocrisy" at the first opportunity. Even the "Bridget Jones" speech given a fortnight ago by David Willetts, the work and pensions spokesman, to the Policy Exchange think-tank, run by Francis Maude, could not be made at conference. This speech appealed for greater "inclusiveness" for those unmarried who change partners several times but who end up married in later life. Although liberal in tone, the speech still came back to the Tory obsession with "marriage", and it has a hollow ring after the Major/Currie revelations.

The mood among the lip-smacking hacks, of every political hue, in Blackpool is one of a pack-like desire for entertainment and merriment in Bournemouth, for what most think will be a Tory freak show rather than a serious conference. One tabloid colleague suggested – originally in jest, but he is now, I suspect, considering the idea seriously – that his paper run a daily "Conservative conference shag watch", similar to the Daily Mirror's 3am Girls column. The message must be dinned in to every conference representative and MP: they must be tucked up alone in single rooms, with cocoa, by 9pm.

Several Tory frontbenchers have already asked me for advice on what to do. The obvious answer, which I have given, is to cancel the conference, but I fear that this is not an option – although this is a serious point for all parties to consider. The days of the annual, week-long sojourn to the seaside should surely be re-considered. Every Bournemouth conference in recent times has caused nothing but trouble for the Tories. In 1998 the picture of Margaret Thatcher and Sir Edward Heath sitting bored on Ikea chairs was the only lasting memory. In 2000 the battle between Michael Portillo's speech of gay and single-mother tolerance contrasted sharply with Ann Widdecombe's promise to fine every dope-puffer. The conference ended in ignominy with the revelation that a third of the Shadow Cabinet were high on drugs in their younger days.

What Mr Duncan Smith should do – I doubt he will dare – is take that ridiculous speech John Major made about the 1950s and turn it upside down. How about something like: "We once used to be characterised as a party that believed in warm beer, cricket grounds and old maids riding bicycles to church through morning mists. It is a lost age; an age that has thankfully gone. We are turning our backs on that ghastly past. We believe instead in cool lager and football, with gays, blacks and women zipping merrily around on micro-scooters in the warm summer sunshine."

At some point Mr Duncan Smith will have to say things that will upset his party. My fear is that in the process of upsetting them – for example on clause 28 – he will unleash a backlash from those who supported him in the leadership battle. There are treacherous waters in Bournemouth.

Although Sir Edward Heath, Lady Thatcher and Mr Major will not attend, their ghosts will haunt proceedings. And don't discount the possibility of Mrs Currie putting in an appearance. Even if she were barred, her presence outside locked conference doors would be a command performance in front of the cameras. "She wouldn't dare", said one shadow spokesman, before adding quietly "would she?"

mrbrown@pimlico.freeserve.co.uk