Rose Oil, Repackaged: The Cost of Global Geranium

You’ll find it in serums, deodorants, hair oils, toners. That soft, floral scent in your face mist? Probably geranium. The “clean” perfume with subtle citrus notes? Also geranium. Rose geranium oil has quietly taken hold in the modern beauty and wellness industry. It’s praised for its antibacterial, soothing, and mood-lifting properties and shows up across pretty much every price point. From niche apothecaries to multinational skincare giants, everyone wants it in the bottle.

But geranium oil is labor- and resource-intensive to produce. It takes several hundred kilograms of freshly harvested leaves and stems to distill a single liter of oil. Producing it at scale often means monoculture farming, heavy water use, and exploitative labor conditions. Most consumers never see that side of the industry. All they get is the word "natural" printed in cursive on the front of the packaging.

A Quiet Commodity

Geranium oil is versatile and profitable. It’s used not just in skincare, but also in candles, detergents, and hair products. The cosmetic industry favors it because it mimics the fragrance of true rose oil without the astronomical cost. Brands blend it with synthetics to soften its profile or lean into its botanical edge, then market it as plant-based wellness.

Behind that marketing is a chain of extraction. The top suppliers for high-quality geranium oil include Egypt, Morocco, Tunisia, and South Africa. While China and India have increased output, much of the global supply used in cosmetics still comes from North Africa. The plant thrives in dry Mediterranean climates, and production centers in Egypt, like Fayoum and Beni Suef, have long been known for their geranium fields.

Most of those fields aren’t run by local families or small businesses. In conventional supply chains, large buyers push for maximum output at minimum cost. Farmers are paid by weight, regardless of oil quality. Middlemen dominate pricing and distribution. Water is drained without oversight. Fertilizers are pushed to boost growth. Native flora is removed to make room for a single, exportable crop. Local ecosystems and rural economies are flattened to meet global demand for a product marketed as healing. Yes, I regret to inform you that if your favorite beauty brand is selling rose scented products, they're likely bottling an entire system that treats land and labor as disposable.

A Long History, Erased

Rose geranium isn’t native to the Middle East, but it’s been part of traditional life in the region for centuries. In parts of Lebanon, Palestine, and Egypt, people used it in herbal infusions, skin remedies, and spiritual rituals. It had healing value, but also symbolic weight. It was never just a scent. It held place in daily life, layered into stories passed between women and handed down like recipes.

Modern beauty production cuts that history out. It takes the oil and leaves behind the knowledge. Distillation turns industrial, and the people who shaped the cultural use of geranium rarely see the profits. The fields remain, but the relationships do not.

Sustainable Alternatives

Some rural cooperatives are pushing back. In Tunisia, Egypt, and parts of Morocco, smallholder farmers (typically indigenous women) have formed co-ops to grow and distill geranium on their own terms. These cooperatives set their own prices and handle distillation in-house, keeping profits local and reducing reliance on opaque export systems.

Farming methods also look different. Many of these operations use intercropping and dryland farming instead of high-input monoculture. They preserve native species and use traditional harvesting methods that don’t degrade the soil. Some manage distillation with solar-heated stills or shared micro-distilleries that reduce emissions and energy use.

Contrary to popular misconception, projects like these are far from charity initiatives. They are economic models grounded in survival, land care, and self-determination, which is precisely what marks them as sustainable.

Why It Matters for MENA

The Middle East and North Africa supply much of the raw material behind the global beauty industry. Geranium oil is just one example. Many of the most marketable ingredients (argan, rose, laurel, myrrh) are harvested here. The land carries the weight of their production. The people do the labor. But the wealth and recognition often travel elsewhere.

Sustainability in this region is tied to land use, labor equity, and environmental limits. Who owns the means of extraction? Who sets the terms of trade? Who carries the environmental burden when international markets move on?

If you see rose geranium oil in a product, read more closely. Does the brand disclose where the oil comes from? Are they sourcing directly from a cooperative? Do they name the farm, the region, or the distillation method? Or is it a vague nod to nature without substance? Brands that work with transparent, regenerative suppliers are usually proud to talk about it.

Geranium oil isn’t inherently harmful. But the system behind most of its production is extractive, opaque, and exploitative. The more clearly we understand the supply chain, the easier it is to challenge it.

There’s nothing soft about a rose, especially when it grows in the cracks of a broken system.