Loyalty, discipline and this gruesome saga of the Tories

Mr Portillo has gone to ground and his name is spat out in the same breath as that of Iain Duncan Smith

Tory MPs have returned to Westminster from their half-term break bemused and in a state more of confusion and bewilderment than of anger. The storm caused by that radio interview given by Michael Portillo, which I predicted would turn into a hurricane, has not so far materialised. Instead, a thick fog has descended on Tory MPs, who simply do not know what to do about the latest leadership crisis.

Mr Portillo appears to have gone to ground, and his name is being spat out in the same breath, and with equal opprobrium, as that of Iain Duncan Smith. The members' lobby has been full of hacks eager to seize on any passing backbencher. Whips looked nervously at me and refused to engage in conversation except to comment on my jazzy tie. "It's my television tie," I replied brightly, as they realised that my own Richter scale measurement of TV studio appearances confirmed that last week's diversion has developed into a full-blown leadership crisis.

Kenneth Clarke is nowhere to be seen, and his acolytes are also noticeably thin on the ground. Meanwhile, David Davis walked cheerfully, if menacingly, through the lobby. He uttered many words and engaged in friendly conversation with all-comers – but said nothing. These two are seen to be the most likely beneficiaries from the crisis, and there has even been talk that, should an eventual motion of no-confidence be carried against IDS, some kind of deal might emerge to prevent a long drawn-out contest involving the wider membership. The theory has been floated that whoever were to come second in a parliamentary ballot would withdraw so that the winner would then be deemed elected unopposed in the final round. Such a proposal seems fanciful, although attractive, and we are jumping many guns.

Tonight's meeting of the 1922 Committee is the key to the short-term future of IDS. Before it takes place, the officers and members of the committee's executive are due to have a long-standing meeting with members of the board of the Tory party's Central Office. Here, the parliamentary men in grey suits will be told, first hand, of concerns over the recent personnel changes. Some are suggesting that if Stephen Gilbert, the party's popular chief agent, is reinstated and Barry Legg, the new chief executive, sacrificed, IDS could buy a temporary peace. Such a backing down, however, would weaken the leader, and he is unlikely to want to surrender authority in this way.

When MPs step into committee room 14, there will be an air of anticipation. Provided the leadership makes sure that it brings the fire engine and does not grab the petrol tanker by mistake – as it did at the weekend, with talk of Mr Portillo being "mad" and a "cancer" – it may still cool the temperature. The 1922 is a fascinating body that I always enjoyed because of its sheer unpredictability. In the olden days it was the platform for the backbencher with no ministerial ambitions. This was when the species was either a former military officer or a country squire.

There are still a few such characters left, although, ironically, they are the ones most critical of the leadership. Anthony Steen and Nicholas Soames are classics of the genre, and in a previous age they could have been relied upon to steady the younger, more excitable troops. Today, however, they see the shadow Cabinet and the leadership as having been taken over by the children and find the appeals for loyalty from IDS, with his Maastricht rebellion still fresh in their memories, difficult to stomach.

Enforcing discipline and loyalty is a delicate business. The latest rumoured idea, that MPs should swear a kind of loyalty oath by signing a pledge of fealty to IDS, sounds remarkably tacky and high risk. Quite where this would have left Margaret Thatcher in 1975, had it been around when she challenged Edward Heath, I can't imagine.

The people I feel most sorry for in this gruesome saga are the party workers. I know we characterise them as elderly blue rinses out of touch with the modern world. But they are all the Tories have to keep the party going – especially in the 500 or so constituencies without a Tory MP. They are the footsoldiers who will be slogging their way around the streets with leaflets in the coming weeks, and they have the chance to see some reward at the local elections.

By all accounts MPs have been inundated by letters, phone calls and e-mails from party members complaining about recent events. The lines to the Kensington and Chelsea Conservative office from around the country have, allegedly, also been particularly hot and vitriolic. Perhaps commentators, myself included, have overlooked their importance in the survival of IDS, for the short term at least. They are turning out to be the restraining influence on MPs who are afraid to deal the fatal blow.

I shall have a better idea on the longer-term prospects for IDS when I address the Conservative supper club in David Willetts's Havant constituency tomorrow night. Goodness knows what I should say to them. Frankly, their views will probably be more interesting to me than mine to them. But I will begin by quoting from the show-stopping conference speech made by Mr Portillo in 1996 when he was Secretary of State for Defence – "We need three things to win the next general election: unity, unity, and unity."

mrbrown@pimlico.freeserve.co.uk