Griffin is losing support by the day.
Even in the case of those who used to, and those who still do, describe themselves as Griffinites: the scales are falling from their eyes.
They sense that something is very seriously wrong.
They have suffered a sea change, and nothing will ever be the same again.
Griffin's star is on the wane. His is a falling star, and those who hitched their wagons to that star when it was in the ascendant now rightly foresee their own ruin staring them in the face, as Griffin drags his minions, and if he is not stopped, the whole of the BNP, into the bottomless abyss with him.
Some lines of Macbeth seem particularly apposite.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.