Following on from analysis and investigation by Dorset Eye
The Guardian and The Observer have both identified exactly how alarmingly this acceptance of misinformation is taking hold. The following offers a summarised version of a trend that we must reverse and quickly.
In the comforting glow of a smartphone or the familiar interface of a laptop, a quiet revolution is being waged. Its soldiers are not balaclava-clad agitators but retirees in neat new-builds; its battlefields not dark alleys but seemingly benign Facebook groups. And its financiers are not collection tins but American tech billionaires. Here, in the digital town squares of modern Britain, hundreds of thousands of ordinary citizens are being systematically fed a diet of racist conspiracy and disinformation, radicalised in their own living rooms by a machine with a transnational wallet.
Groundbreaking research by the Guardian has uncovered a sprawling network of far-right Facebook groups, an “engine of radicalisation” exposing Britons to a torrent of hardline anti-immigration rhetoric and extremist disinformation. This network, run not by shadowy ideologues but by “otherwise ordinary members of the public – many of whom are of retirement age,” has become a hotbed for language and ideas that experts warn can spill over into real-world violence.
But this is only one side of the coin. This grassroots ecosystem is fertilised by a top-down pipeline of American capital, which has systematically professionalised and amplified far-right influencers, transforming them from fringe agitators into slick, media-savvy stars with global reach. The result is a perfect storm: billionaire-funded propaganda trickling down into a vast, decentralised network of duped Britons.
The Billionaire’s Makeover: From Agitator to ‘Journalist’
The blueprint for this modern radicalisation is epitomised by the transformation of Tommy Robinson. Outside the Old Bailey in 2018, a reinvented Robinson flashed a set of perfect new teeth to his supporters. This was no minor detail, but a symbol of a profound metamorphosis bankrolled from across the Atlantic.
Robinson was suddenly flush with funds from US tech billionaire Robert Shillman, a transformation that moved him from a right-wing agitator to a self-styled “citizen journalist.” The mechanism was a £85,000 “Shillman fellowship” at the Canadian outlet Rebel Media. This investment bought slick production values, a vast social media following, and a veneer of legitimacy that helped him draw 110,000 people to a London protest.
Shillman, who funds fellowships through Rebel News and the right-wing thinktank the David Horowitz Freedom Center (DHFC), is a key node in a transatlantic “counter-jihad” network. His money didn’t just polish Robinson; it built an entire roster of influence. Shillman fellows have included:
- Katie Hopkins, who used the platform to promote the debunked “white genocide” conspiracy theory in South Africa.
- Laura Loomer, a powerful conspiracy theorist now considered a “de facto national security adviser” to Donald Trump.
- Raheem Kassam, a former Ukip adviser who set up the UK arm of Breitbart News.
This funding pipeline extends beyond media personalities. Shillman also paid over $200,000 for the legal defence of Dutch far-right politician Geert Wilders against hate speech charges, and championed Charlie Kirk, funding his group Turning Point USA, which has a UK offshoot.
The effect, as described by Joe Mulhall of Hope Not Hate, was fundamental: “Ezra Levant [of Rebel Media] was the one who turned round and first professionalised Robinson’s content… The Tommy Robinson who calls himself a journalist did not exist before Rebel Media.” This professionalisation is key to the duping process—it launders extremist ideas through a production studio, making them palatable for a wider, more mainstream audience.
The Grassroots Engine: Radicalising the Ordinary
While billionaires fund the stars, the grassroots network on Facebook provides the mass audience. This ecosystem, uncovered by the Guardian’s data project, is run by a surprising foot soldier: the retiree administrator.
The moderators the Guardian identified are a “mixture of men and women over the age of 60.” These individuals, from a seaside townhouse to a Midlands new-build, are the radical next door. They are not social outcasts but often disillusioned individuals, empowered by social media to build communities around shared grievances. Their age and apparent ordinariness lend a dangerous credibility to the content they promote, making extremism feel like common sense.
The Guardian’s analysis of over 51,000 posts found this network to be a hotbed of dehumanising language and conspiracy. Immigrants are branded “parasites” and “lice”; Muslims are described as “barbaric” and “an army.” One post chillingly declared: “We need a humongous nit comb… to get rid of all the blood sucking lice out of our country once and for all!!”
This environment acts as tinder for another vulnerable demographic: young, disaffected white British men. The investigation began by tracing the Facebook profiles of those charged in connection with the 2024 summer riots—often young men whose criminal online activity flourished not on dark web forums, but on mainstream Facebook and Instagram. For them, the network offers seductive, hate-fuelled answers to complex problems, validating their anger and providing a warped sense of community.
The Playbook of Deception: How the Duping Works
The synergy between top-down funding and bottom-up networks creates a powerful playbook of deception:
- Weaponised Professionalisation: Billionaire money transforms crude agitators into polished media figures, giving their extremist narratives a sheen of legitimacy that dupes viewers into taking them seriously.
- Exploiting Disillusionment: The narrative begins with a genuine sense of betrayal. Posts in Facebook groups rail against “treacherous” politicians, building a foundation of shared grievance that makes members receptive to the more extreme ideas promoted by the funded influencers.
- The Slippery Slope of Conspiracy: Once trust is established, conspiratorial narratives are introduced—from the “white genocide” myth to the RNLI being a migrant “taxi service.” These theories, given platform by funded stars, are then endlessly repeated and normalised in the grassroots groups.
- The Illusion of Free Speech Under Attack: When group members are prosecuted for inciting hatred, the network—egged on by the influencers—flips the script. They are cast as “political prisoners,” a narrative recently bolstered by figures like Elon Musk, who has revived Robinson’s platform on X and is rumoured to have contributed to his legal fees. This creates a powerful persecution complex, binding the duped ever closer to the movement.
A Failure of Moderation and the Road Ahead
Alarmingly, this entire ecosystem operates with impunity. Meta, Facebook’s parent company, reviewed the extremist groups highlighted by the Guardian and confirmed the content did not violate its hateful conduct policy. This represents a catastrophic failure in moderation, allowing a grassroots radicalisation engine to run alongside a billionaire-funded propaganda machine on the world’s largest social network.
Dr Julia Ebner warns of the unprecedented danger: “The algorithmic amplification, the speed at which people can end up in a radicalisation engine… people trust content spread by individual accounts… more than they tend to trust established institutions. And that is inherently dangerous.”
The result is a nation where a retiree in a quaint village and a young man on a troubled estate are being fed the same poisonous lies, duped by a campaign that is both locally hosted and internationally funded. The network exposed by the Guardian is more than a collection of Facebook groups; it is a factory of resentment, its production lines oiled by billionaire dollars, producing a wave of radicalised citizens who pose a clear and present danger to the fabric of British society. The challenge is not just to expose this deception but to break the seductive, well-funded hold it has on the hearts and minds of the duped.
This article was inspired by detailed research published in The Guardian and The Observer.
