Across the French countryside, the ripple effects of the war in Iran are being felt in the most mundane of places: the local bakery, the food truck, the farm. With nearly 21 million people—about a third of France's population—living in rural areas that cover roughly 90% of the national territory, the energy shock is not an abstract macroeconomic statistic but a daily struggle for survival.
In Saint-Just-en-Chaussée, a town of about 6,000 in the northern Oise department, baker Kevin Luce has watched his heating oil bills climb relentlessly. His two ovens, once a cost-effective choice, now consume a fuel whose price has jumped by 50%. His latest delivery, just two days ago, cost €2,200 for 1,200 litres. Six months earlier, the same amount of oil would have been €2,100 for 2,000 litres. The difference is not absorbed by margins—it comes straight out of the business's bottom line.
“All this excessive spending on energy is money we are losing,” Luce says. “It's wages we can't take, pay rises we can't give our employees, investments we can't make.” His words echo a broader anxiety that is spreading through rural economies, where energy-intensive trades have little room to pass on costs to customers already squeezed by inflation.
Adapting to survive
Some entrepreneurs are taking more drastic measures. Martial Realland, who runs a food truck, has stopped ordering heating oil altogether. “Last year I had 1,500 litres delivered. It cost me 1,600 euros. Now, at 1.80 or 1.90 euros a litre, it's almost double. So I'm not getting any delivered,” he explains. He has also begun turning down jobs that require long drives, a move that cuts into his revenue but spares him the pain at the pump.
“Ever since I was born there have always been crises. But this is no longer bearable,” Realland says. His frustration is shared by many in the region, where diesel and heating oil are not optional extras but essential inputs for daily operations.
The current crisis is reviving memories of the gilets jaunes movement, which erupted in autumn 2018 after a fuel tax increase. That protest drew its strongest support from rural and peri-urban areas—the same communities now bearing the heaviest burden of the energy price surge. The parallels are not lost on observers, who worry that the economic pain could again spill into political unrest.
The French government has been treading carefully, aware that fuel prices are a sensitive issue. President Emmanuel Macron has already faced protests over pension reform and other policies, and the energy crisis adds another layer of tension. Meanwhile, the broader European context is one of rising food costs across the continent, as energy prices feed into everything from fertiliser to transport.
For small businesses in rural France, the immediate outlook is bleak. Without significant relief, many may be forced to cut hours, lay off staff, or close altogether. The strain on rural French businesses is not just an economic issue; it is a test of social cohesion.
As the war in Iran continues to disrupt global energy markets, the French government has sought to shield consumers through price caps and subsidies, but these measures have limits. The deployment of French military assets to protect Saudi oil infrastructure underscores the geopolitical stakes, yet for a baker in Oise, the solution is more immediate: a litre of oil that doesn't cost nearly two euros.
The crisis also highlights the fragility of Europe's energy dependence. While some countries are investing in alternatives like Spain's green hydrogen push, the transition is slow, and rural communities are left to cope with the here and now. For now, the ovens in Saint-Just-en-Chaussée keep baking, but at a cost that threatens the very businesses that sustain local life.
