It always starts as if it’s nothing special. The small shop on the corner closes first, then the pharmacy disappears. One day the post office also closes. Officially, this is called “economic adjustment,” “reorganization,” or “service optimization.” These are words used by people dressed like television spokespeople in air-conditioned meeting rooms.
But outside the streets of Nîmes, these words sound different.
The people there hear only one message: “We don’t care about you.”
And that is the very essence of the true disaster.
The post office branch is not just a place to buy stamps and parcels. It is light, movement, everyday life, and a meeting place. A piece of the nation between gray housing blocks. A visible sign that the Republic has not fully withdrawn. If even such places disappear, no neutral space remains. From then on, others take the lead.
Drug dealers don’t need citizen service offices.
They only need empty spaces.
In some neighborhoods of Nîmes, the mail carrier no longer patrols, and young people on motorcycles monitor drug organizations. There is no neighbor with a shopping basket standing at the apartment entrance, but a security guard keeps watch. Children learn early which streets to avoid. So what about the adults? They become accustomed to many things that should not be normal. It is precisely this that instills fear.
This gradual process of becoming accustomed is perhaps the greatest defeat.
For a long time, France has addressed the problem of drug crime solely as a policing and judiciary issue. The argument is that more crackdowns, more flashing lights, and more repressive operations are needed. Of course, all of this is necessary. But if one tries to reclaim an area only with armored vehicles, it shows a complete misunderstanding of how society functions.
A community does not die from a single shooting.
It dies slowly, silently, administratively.
Every time the state disappears and only criminals are visible.
The tragic fact is: Most residents in the area have been pleading for years. They do not want visits from politicians with pity shows or camera tech teams. They just want an ordinary daily life like everyone else. They want to feel safe, go shopping, send their children to school without fear, and send mail without passing armed youth. It is truly strange that this needs to be explained in 2026.
But that is the bitter truth.
When the state withdraws, no neutral space emerges. That space is always taken by someone. In the worst case, those who treat violence as a business model occupy that space.
The closure of the Nîmes post office branch is more than just local news. It is a symbol that in some places the republic exists only in Sunday speeches.
And someday people can no longer be surprised to lose trust.
Commentary: M.A.B.