One of the daftest things I read on line is the assertion that “you can’t rewrite history”
This, of course, is nonsense, history is rewritten all the time, that is how history works. Each generation writes it’s own history, attitudes change, new facts emerge, documents are found in the archives, things are dug up from the ground. But crucially history changes because more history happens, more events take place. The way we view the wall street crash and the great depression changed after the credit crunch and the age of austerity, events in Ukraine tells us new things about the war on the Eastern front in WW2.
To try and stop history changing, isn’t just ahistorical, it is autocratic and weird.
A new account appeared on X late last year. It posts short, punchy stories about British history: Magna Carta, abolition of slavery, ancient roads, forgotten heroes. The tone is always the same.
You were taught to feel ashamed of Britain.
You were lied to. History has been re-written to do the country down
Here is the truth.
Be proud.
The account is called Proud of Us.
In a few months it has amassed around 80,000 followers, despite joining the platform only in December 2025. That is rapid growth for any account, let alone one posting niche historical trivia.
Naturally, curiosity gets the better of you.
Who is behind it?
And that is where things start to get interesting.
The Mysterious Website
The project has a website, proudofus.co.uk, which presents itself as a grassroots historical initiative.
The “About” page claims it began with a single person researching British history in the National Archives. It says the project has no sponsors and no political agenda, and that it is funded by small donations from supporters.
What the site does not provide is any of the usual information you might expect from a historical project:
- no editor
- no historians
- no institutional affiliations
- no legal publisher
- no company details
There is simply a generic contact email address. I tried to email them but got no reply.
The domain registration is privacy-protected.
In other words, a project that claims large reach and influence provides almost no transparency about who runs it.
That is unusual.
A Familiar Narrative
The content itself follows a very specific rhetorical pattern.
Each story begins with a hook:
“They never taught you this about Britain…”
Then comes a simplified historical claim.
Finally, the emotional payoff:
“Be proud of where you come from.”
The structure is remarkably consistent. It is not quite history, and not quite propaganda, but it sits somewhere in the space between the two.
The core message is always the same:
You were taught to feel ashamed of Britain.
The truth was hidden from you.
Now you can reclaim your pride.
This framing has become common in modern identity politics. It converts historical debate into a moral drama: the past becomes evidence that your national identity has been unfairly maligned.
It also happens to be extremely effective on social media.
The Amplification Network
The more revealing question is not who runs the account.
It is who is promoting it.
One organisation stands out.
Great British PAC, a political pressure group founded in 2024, has repeatedly reposted Proud of Us content. Its CEO, Claire Bullivant, has also promoted links to the project.
Great British PAC describes itself as an organisation seeking to “unite the right” in British politics.
The PAC’s chairman is Ben Habib, formerly of Reform UK.
That does not prove the PAC runs the Proud of Us project. But it does show that the account is being actively amplified within a particular political ecosystem.
Other accounts in the same orbit — including activist media channels and political commentary accounts — have also circulated the material. Conservative Post also amplifies Proud of Us, and has a crossover in personnel. Just like Proud of Us they didn’t respond to queries either.
In other words, the project sits squarely within the online network that has emerged around Britain’s populist far right.
A Suspicious Growth Curve
Accounts rarely reach 80,000 followers in a few months by accident.
Rapid growth like this usually requires one of four things:
- large accounts repeatedly boosting it
- paid promotion
- coordinated networks of supporters
- automated or low-quality follower activity
Without access to X’s internal data it is impossible to say definitively which of these is responsible.
But a glance at the follower ecosystem raises some eyebrows.
Samples of the account’s followers include a noticeable number of very small or generic accounts, many with minimal activity and overtly ideological bios. That pattern does not prove the presence of bots, but it is consistent with the sort of follower base that sometimes emerges around politically amplified accounts.
The AI Content Machine
Another striking feature is the posting style.
The account produces a steady stream of short historical claims paired with images and patriotic punchlines. The structure is extremely formulaic.
That format happens to be perfect for automated or AI-assisted content production.
Modern generative tools can produce hundreds of posts like this very quickly. When combined with social-media amplification networks, the result can be a highly efficient narrative engine.
The goal is not historical accuracy.
It is engagement.
What Proud of Us Really Is
None of this proves that the project is coordinated by a particular political organisation.
But it strongly suggests that Proud of Us is not simply a hobbyist history project.
It looks much more like a content brand designed to build a large patriotic audience online.
Once such an audience exists, it can be mobilised in many ways:
- political messaging
- cultural campaigns
- donation drives
- electoral narratives
In the United States, similar networks have become a standard feature of modern politics.
Britain may now be seeing its own versions.
The Real Lesson
The most interesting thing about Proud of Us is not the history it tells.
It is the model it represents.
Anonymous content brands.
AI-scale storytelling.
Political amplification networks.
Rapid follower growth.
Together they form a new kind of political media infrastructure.
One that does not look like propaganda. It looks like history.
And that may be the cleverest trick of all.
The Internet Manufactures Its Own Folklore
The Proud of Us project is interesting because it is trying to manufacture something similar — but without the landscape.
Instead of folklore shaped by centuries of memory, it produces bite-sized patriotic legends optimised for social media.
Every post follows the same pattern:
You were never told this.
The truth was hidden.
Be proud of Britain.
It’s folklore for the algorithm age.
Not rooted in a village, a marsh, or a church ruin — but in engagement statistics.