Cempasúchil Under Siege: How Climate Change Is Threatening Mexico’s 'Flower of the Dead'

Cempasúchil Under Siege

Lucia Ortiz walks through sweeping beds of cempasúchil — the vivid orange marigolds that soon cloak streets and cemeteries across Mexico for Día de los Muertos. On the canal-lined farms of Xochimilco, on the southern edge of Mexico City, this flower has been cultivated for generations and supports hundreds of families each fall.

Farmers on the Front Line of a Changing Climate

But growers such as Ortiz, 50, are worrying about the future. Producers report increasingly erratic weather — months of torrential rains, sudden floods, extended droughts and ensuing pest outbreaks — that have devastated many fields. This year, farmers in Xochimilco and beyond said they lost between 30% and 50% of their cempasúchil harvest in some plots.

“This year we lost a lot. We struggled to even grow the cempasúchil. There were moments we couldn’t afford the fertilizer we needed. With some plants, we’ve sometimes been left with nothing,”

— Lucia Ortiz

National government figures show more than 37,000 acres of crops were wiped out after months of heavy rain. Local officials warned that as many as 2 million marigold plants were put at risk in Xochimilco, even as farmers reported record overall production of roughly 6 million plants as they raced to meet demand.

Economic and Cultural Stakes

Cempasúchil has both deep cultural significance and measurable economic value. Known as the "flower of the dead," its bright petals are believed to guide spirits to family altars during Nov. 1 and 2 observances. Commerce groups estimate marigold sales could generate nearly $2.7 million for farmers in 2025, making the crop a vital seasonal income source.

Yet repeated losses are squeezing household budgets. Families say razor-thin margins have turned into outright losses after emergency spending on insecticides, fertilizer and other measures. Some households report cutting back on staple items like beef and treats to cope.

Loss of Biodiversity, Loss of Resilience

A key issue is seed choice. Government biologists at a local seed bank, Toxinachcal, say many growers adopted a hybrid marigold variety from the United States because it produces shorter, more uniform plants that are easier to sell in supermarkets. But that uniformity comes at a cost: hybrids lack the genetic diversity of native Mexican varieties, which evolved to tolerate different microclimates, pests and moisture levels.

“Native seeds adapted to diverse geographies and stressors. The hybrid seeds were bred for a different purpose and don’t carry the diversity needed to face climate change,”

— Clara Soto Cortés, biologist and head of Toxinachcal

Toxinachcal has spent more than a year collecting and preserving seed material, and now stores roughly 20 distinct cempasúchil variants. The bank aims to give farmers access to more resilient traditional varieties if climate shocks wipe out crops, helping restore genetic diversity and long-term resilience.

Adaptation, but Who Pays?

Growers are considering adaptations such as greenhouses, improved drainage and switching to hardier crops. Carlos Jiménez, 61, who switched to hybrid marigolds eight years ago because they sold better, is now reconsidering protective measures after repeated losses and falling prices driven by mildew and root rot.

But adaptation requires capital many small-scale farmers do not have. Ortiz and others say they received only limited government assistance — far less than needed to rebuild or invest in infrastructure — leaving some to contemplate abandoning the trade that sustains a cultural tradition.

What Comes Next?

The future of cempasúchil in the face of a changing climate will likely depend on a mix of strategies: restoring genetic diversity through seed banks, investing in resilient infrastructure, and strengthening financial and technical support for smallholders. Without that mix, both livelihoods and a cherished cultural practice could be at risk.

“This plant has a deeper meaning for our lost loved ones. These are traditions we inherited. They can’t just disappear,” Jiménez said.