It’s been a torrid time for UKIP since the referendum in June. And not in a good way. On no less than three occasions, the cause of the purple party’s discomforts have, ostensibly, centered upon the person of Steven Woolfe. There was the farce of the leadership campaign where, readers will recall, Woolfe demonstrated his lightning fast organising skills by submitting his candidate’s application some 17 minutes late. Compounding this most rookie of errors were revelations he’d let his membership lapse. Oh, and that he’d forgotten to declare an ancient drink driving conviction while standing for the 2012 Police and Crime Commissioner elections in Greater Manchester, leaving him open to charges of electoral fraud. Then, at the start of the month, we were entertained by the fracas between Woolfe and the aptly named Mike Hookem MEP. And now, there’s this.

In quitting UKIP “with immediate effect”, Woolfe is unsparing with his criticisms. There are “huge negative camps” threatening the party with “a death spiral”, and members saying “horrific” things to each other. Standard for UKIP, I’d have thought. He also concludes that the party has next to no future without Nigel Farage as he’s the only figure capable of keeping a lid on things. True, but even then, UKIP was plagued with infighting, splits, briefing and counter briefings, and a disproportionate number of its wastrel MEPs hauled before the courts. And there’s also the suggestion the party’s on the hook for 800 grand, minus a willing sugar daddy to make the shortfall good.

This latest round in UKIP’s decline is something first forecast on this blog after the 2015 general election. Feeding off the historic anti-Labour sections of the working class, the lumpens, the petit bourgeoisie, and retirees, UKIP’s core, if it can be called that, was always highly volatile. A coalition built around europhobia and anti-immigrant bigotry can glue such a bloc together for a time. The adhesive can be strengthened by the application of a charismatic man-of-the-people type, and for a while, it worked. While it was on the up, it appeared as if these divisions didn’t matter. UKIP have shrugged off dodgy MEPs and egos as it climbed the polls, won the European elections, nicked two MPs off the Tories, netted councillors, and made the political weather. But after the general election, and post the EU referendum, the party’s tendency to historic decline has accelerated. With Theresa May cornering the let’s-be-beastly-to-foreigners market, UKIP is not about to repeat the glories. With or without Farage.

Which is why, ultimately, Woolfe has thrown the towel in. He deserves some credit for speaking candidly to the BBC about his injuries, but one thing he isn’t is stupid. Apart from his politics, Woolfe does seem personable and usually acquits himself well on the television. Yet he hasn’t got what it takes to lead UKIP’s gaggle of silly, stupid, racist geese. In his presentation and personality there is nothing setting him apart from any other smooth, media trained mainstream politician. Qualities that might endear him to a nice Conservative Association somewhere, sometime, but definitely not what a so-called people’s army demands. They need a Farage or, ugh, a Kilroy.

The departure of Woolfe epitomises the crisis, the cracking up of UKIP. The party is dying because it cannot replace itself. there just aren’t sufficient numbers of younger activists and, crucially, voters willing to give the party time of day. Small wonder it can manage a succession properly. Looking among the personages and non-personalities of the party’s leading cadre, there is not one among them capable of filling Farage’s shoes. And in the politics after the referendum, it lacks purpose beyond an occasional council by-election annoyance. Woolfe’s departure might be enough to save his career from the knackers yard of politics. It looks increasingly like the same can’t be said for his erstwhile party.