French politics has been shaken by repeated instability throughout this year. Political scientists have fervently argued that the country has descended into deep disarray. While those assessments may hold at the political level, little evidence has been offered as to the extent to which French society itself has been brought to its knees. Now, a recent report on narcotraffic reveals a more jarring possibility: this is not merely a passing political crisis, but rather a structural rupture, whose consequences for the social fabric are unfolding even now.
According to France’s anti-narcotics office (Office Anti-Stupefiants - OFSAT), authorities seized 70 tonnes of cocaine in the first 10 months of 2025, a nearly 30% rise compared to last year’s 53.3 tonnes. Over the same period, 96 tonnes of cannabis were intercepted, broadly mirroring last year’s figures. OFSAT’s report makes one point unmistakably clear: today’s narcotraffic is no longer driven by South American cartels. Instead, both cocaine and cannabis now originate predominantly from North Africa, with a smaller share coming from sub-Saharan Africa. What is even more striking is the level of cooperation between criminal networks. Rather than competing, these groups increasingly invest in each other’s operations, creating a mutually reinforcing system that accelerates the flow of drugs and other illicit products.
Marseille stands as the primary entry point. From there, criminal groups, from street gangs to banlieue-based networks, transport the narcotics first to Paris and subsequently into the inner regions of Western Europe. The scale of this underground economy is staggering. The report notes that nearly 5,000 delinquents are involved in this sprawling network, while four out of five communes in France have been affected by drug-related activities. The annual turnover of the narcotraffic sector is estimated at around 7 billion euros ($8.14 billion).
France’s deepening drug crisis raises an unavoidable question: who bears responsibility for this structural breakdown? Successive French governments have long failed to grasp the scale of the problem, treating narcotraffic as a peripheral security issue rather than a central threat to the country’s social fabric. Yet, the roots of today’s crisis lie far beyond policy miscalculations. They are embedded in decades of failed social engineering, most visibly reflected in the country’s HLM housing system. Designed to provide affordable housing, these estates gradually evolved into segregated zones where immigrant-origin communities were concentrated, isolated and eventually abandoned by the state. This spatial segregation produced more than poor living conditions; it entrenched a parallel society. Discriminatory policies in housing, education and employment systematically restricted upward mobility for generations.
Anyone who has spent time in Paris can immediately observe how deeply these discriminatory patterns continue today. The quality of public high schools in the central arrondissements, from the 1st to the 7th, near the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay and the Saint-Germain-des-Près area, is comparable to that of elite universities. Meanwhile, schools outside these privileged districts operate with markedly fewer resources, weaker institutional support and limited opportunities for advancement. This skewed system has had predictable consequences: the banlieues became fertile ground for criminal organizations, not because of any inherent social fragility, but because state institutions withdrew, leaving these communities with few legal prospects and minimal protection.
Compounding this is France’s rigid assimilation model, which demands cultural conformity while consistently failing to deliver economic inclusion. In this vacuum of opportunity and representation, gangs stepped in as providers of income, protection and even informal governance. The drug economy expanded precisely where the republic’s presence was weakest, yet where its expectations remained the highest.
In this context, do French people believe in their government? The answer is straightforward: no. According to the latest Odoxa poll, 73% of French citizens are dissatisfied with the government’s efforts to guarantee public security. Even more striking, 80% believe that police officers and customs officials are cooperating with narcotraffickers. A further 57% say that members of Parliament and senators are deliberately turning a blind eye to these criminal activities.
This profound distrust is reinforced by a widespread feeling of abandonment. An overwhelming 84% of respondents state that an increasing number of “territories are slipping out of the State’s control.” Even more concerning, six in 10 French citizens (59%) say they personally feel more unsafe because of the surge in drug trafficking. These figures underscore a simple reality: Large segments of French society no longer believe the Republic is capable of protecting them.
France’s present turmoil is inseparable from its colonial legacy, which is a stark reminder that a nation ultimately reaps what it sows. The marginalization of North African and sub-Saharan communities, once administered as subjects of empire and later absorbed as cheap labour, has reproduced at home the same hierarchies once imposed abroad. The republic’s insistence on cultural superiority, rigid assimilation and selective inclusion has created internal fractures that mirror its colonial past. Today’s segregation, resentment and criminal networks are not sudden phenomena but the long-term harvest of policies that rejected equality while demanding loyalty. The ghosts of empire have returned, but this time from within.
France today faces more than a temporary political crisis. Rather, it confronts a structural rupture rooted in decades of policy failures, social exclusion, and the unresolved legacies of empire. Political instability, entrenched narcotraffic, and a profound distrust of institutions are all symptoms of a society where the state has repeatedly withdrawn from its responsibilities. Segregated HLMs, discriminatory policies, and rigid assimilation have left entire communities vulnerable, while criminal networks have stepped into the vacuum. The Fifth Republic now stands teetering on the precipice, like Oceanus burdened by the weight of the world’s currents: trapped by the consequences of its past choices, it risks collapse into marginalization, insecurity and disintegration, which is the inevitable harvest of decisions made long ago.
