In the aftermath of deadly terror attacks, this secretive government unit swings into action. Not to stop the terrorists, but to steer the narrative. A recent article in the Daily Mail has spotlighted the work of the Research, Information and Communications Unit, or RICU.
The little-known unit was founded in 2007 and has evolved into a sophisticated operation accused of covertly manipulating public opinion, engineering "grassroots" narratives and prioritizing political optics over transparent governance. Yet by planting stories and funding disguised campaigns, it stands accused of undermining democracy and eroding public trust.
Initially criticized by Islamic groups concerned about how far RICU’s shadowy work to tackle extremist Muslims went, it has now come under scrutiny from the right, accused of attempting to manipulate events whenever a high-profile case involving an attack by a migrant occurs.
From Counter-Terrorism to Opinion Management
RICU was created to support Prevent, one of the four key pillars of CONTEST, the UK government's counter-terrorism strategy. It analyzes terrorist propaganda, monitors online narratives and develops counter-messages. It has around 22 staff and contracts some of its work to private firms such as Breakthrough Media. The wider counter-terrorism policing budget amounts to £1.2bn ($1.6bn) a year.
It was founded by Sir Charles Farr, a former MI6 officer, who died in 2019. Reporting initially to multiple departments (Home Office, Foreign Office, Communities and Local Government), it addressed perceived failures in countering al-Qaeda’s ideology, particularly in Muslim communities. Farr emphasized language, such as encouraging the government not to use terms like the “war on terror” or “Islamic terrorism” so as not to alienate British Muslims.
Instead, inspired by the Cold War-era Information Research Department (IRD), which had tried to counter communism through covert cultural warfare, RICU aimed to affect the behaviour of British Muslims in a positive direction. Much of that would take place without any public acknowledgment, through front organizations presenting as independent.
After the 2014 murder of British aid worker Alan Henning by ISIS, a front operation planted the image of a woman in a Union Jack hijab on the front page of The Sun, which is Britain’s biggest-selling newspaper. Instead of being produced by grassroots British Muslim women, it was described in internal documents as a “product” of RICU.
After the 2017 London Bridge attack, RICU operatives distributed flowers in an effort to channel public "grief" rather than anger and plastered areas with hashtags such as #TurnToLove. In 2016, it secretly funded the boyband Mr Meanor to tour Muslim schools with anti-radicalization songs referencing 9/11 and 7/7. That song currently only has 23,000 views on YouTube, which suggests that it failed to win much of an audience.
On behalf of RICU, contracts have produced content for ostensibly independent groups like Imams Online and the magazine Haqiqah, with RICU approving scripts. Campaigns also used rap, graffiti and social media in the UK and abroad. One campaign targeted Lebanon, Tunisia and Morocco, with a social-media operation called Ala Khatrek Tounsi encouraging young Tunisians to be proud of their country through rap music and television adverts.
During the 2012 London Olympics, RICU helped pay for a documentary on Muslim athletes competing in the games, which was broadcast to millions of Muslims on major channels like Al Jazeera.
The Government’s Hidden Influence Operation
Efforts by journalists to discover what RICU is up to have been met with secrecy. Freedom of Information requests over RICU’s role in a radio drama called Divided We Fall, which tried to draw parallels between the radicalization of a young British Muslim and the return of a white former soldier from Afghanistan, were denied on national security grounds.
Much of that work was focused on the threat of Islamist groups like Al Qaeda and ISIS. But as their relevance and power has waned in recent years, RICU’s attention has turned towards trying to control the reaction of the public to terror or violent attacks, such as the brutal stabbing in Belfast last week.
Although it has not been proven, there is speculation about who really wrote a statement issued by the family of Stephen Ogilvie, the Belfast man who suffered life-changing injuries in an attempted beheading that triggered several days of riots and political controversy in Northern Ireland. A 30-year-old Sudanese man, Hadi Alodid, has been charged with attempted murder in connection with the attack and remains in custody awaiting further court proceedings.
In the statement, the family praises migrants and celebrates their role in the “hospitality sector”, while attacking any attempts at divisiveness. Are they the words of a grieving family, or of government spin doctors?
RICU came in for criticism in the Independent Review of Prevent, which noted that it had a relatively high bar for what constituted Islamism but a low bar for what it considered extreme right-wing content, which included documentaries on railways and works by Shakespeare.
RICU also recommended that the police increase their recording of non-crime hate incidents, a controversial category which has been accused of being a way to persecute people for their politics.
Although it is understandable that counter-terrorism involves some secrecy, there is a large difference in a democracy between investigative work to fight terrorism and attempts to covertly influence public opinion.
It should not be the case that people have to worry that what they read in the newspapers or see on television has been planted there by civil servants, with the aim of changing the way they think about current affairs. That oversteps their role in a democracy.
