What the Peony Tells Us About War and Biodiversity

We’ve had war about as long as we’ve had two legs and sharp sticks, and it certainly doesn’t feel like that’s going to change anytime soon. We’ve also waged it over pretty much everything, from independence to a pastry shop in Mexico City. But nothing will get those rifles polished faster than the pursuit of more stuff. Spices, fossil fuel, the list goes on.

At this point, it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that we’ve even gone to war over plants. If you weren’t aware, in the mid-nineteenth century, the British Empire went to war with China shortly after the Chinese emperor restricted the import of opium from Papaver somniferum. Time being a flat circle, the British became increasingly dissatisfied with a growing trade deficit, importing far more from China than they could export in return. When the Chinese emperor restricted opium imports, Britain responded by launching the First Opium War (First China War, National Army Museum). Among the goods imported from China were large amounts of herbal plants, including the peony, Paeonia lactiflora, which has a long history in traditional Chinese medicine. While the European peony, Paeonia officinalis, had been brought to the United States during colonization, innovations in the floral trade and renewed interest in exotic East Asian plants in the late 19th and early 20th centuries kicked off the peony as a landscaping phenomenon (Starr, 2022).

Peony (What is it good for?)

“The peony,” as we casually understand it today, is either Paeonia lactiflora or Paeonia officinalis. If you’ve seen one, it’s really not that surprising that this flower is extremely popular in landscaping. The showy inflorescence goes through a dramatic character arc that starts as a green orb of nectar that attracts numerous ants. The bulb swells to accommodate the growing deluge of petals. The plant tries its best to keep them at bay, at this point resembling a plump onion. It fails to stop the inevitable. In defiance of its confinement, a whirlpool of wispy white petals cascades out one by one until finally the metamorphosis is complete. Organized chaos takes center stage. Within, amongst petals that seem endless, a crowd emerges. Nearly a hundred basifixed, erect stamens gather en masse to see the show unfolding around them.

The peony, like war, is glorious. It’s inspiring and uniting. But the petals will fall; the show will end. All that’s left is the tragedy it left behind. In the United States, no insects use the peony as a host plant. The selective breeding responsible for the show-stopping petal arrangements actually prevents effective pollination and feeding (Mortensen, L., n.d.). Its propagation, like many non-natives, promotes the slow death of biodiversity as it conquers new territory in our struggle against the Earth. Here, I hope to present the plants that we still have in North America that can heal and reclaim this lost ground.

Native Peonies (Paeonia brownii and Paeonia californica)

The United States hosts only two species that are in the family Paeoniaceae, that being Paeonia brownii, Brown’s peony, and Paeonia californica, California peony.

They’re endemic to the west coast of California found in sage scrubland often as small understory herbs, and brownii extending a little further into the mountain states at higher altitudes. The inflorescence is a small simple red bowl, again full of numerous chunky stamens. Like a bowl of rice crackers. It might not be clear from the photos that this is a much smaller plant than the bushes of peonies that reside in our gardens. Large ostentatious growth tends to not be a big advantage in drier hotter regions.

The inflorescence gives us some insight into the long history of cultivation we have put the other cohorts of Paeonia through. The arrangement here is simple with two to three layers of petals bonded like round red brick walls with very little space in between them. This allows much easier navigation by the numerous syrphid flies, wasps, and sweat bees that forage for nectar (Bernhardt et al., 2013).

Paeonia californica has a limited selection of nurseries that carry it. This is probably for the best as it’s a highly specific species distribution with requirements that follow suit. As for brownii, the chance of finding this commercially available is low. It’s not attractive to the average flower consumer due to how few flowers it produces, and to an even greater extent than P. californica, has a challenging and specific set of requirements to flourish.

Hibiscus spp.

In North America, native species of Hibiscus may be one of the few capable of delivering both a busy, showy inflorescence and the larger shrub form that is popular with a peony enthusiast. It ranges across the entire continental United States, with flowers that range from small and quaint to large and powerful. There’s a great diversity of color among hibiscus species, but the genus all sport its iconic studded trumpet pistil, and for many, the flower is massive. For a flower not touched by the long history of selective breeding, this is pretty rare.

The hibiscus that you most commonly encounter in big-box stores and other greenhouses are not native. They are often Hibiscus syriaca, which is from Asia. The hibiscus native to North America will be a bit different from what you’re used to, mainly a little less tropical feeling, but still an incredible spectacle.

Several hibiscus species are native to the United States and are commonly known as rose mallow. Hibiscus moscheutos (hardy hibiscus), H. grandiflorus (swamp rose mallow), and H. laevis (Halbert-leaved rose mallow) are among the most related examples.

Find a species native to your region from native plant nurseries; there are tons of choices, and many share features that modern landscaping peonies have, from shrublike growth to large summer-blooming flowers. If it’s any further incentive, hibiscus are also hummingbird-pollinated, which is starting to be a pretty high-demand landscaping feature.

Eastern Prickly Pear (Opuntia humifusa)

The Cactaceae family is not at all related to Paeoniaceae. Here we trade delicate and vaguely exotic for strange and intimidating. Fleeting and seasonal traded for perpetual. A cactus is a natural sentinel standing guard through every season. A more potent weapon in our war to reclaim North America. Opuntia is the genus commonly referred to as a “prickly pear”, and the flowers, even in the wild, are every bit as complex and delicate as a cultivated peony. Both plants feature a striking abundance of stamens, but in Opuntia, these stamens actively support pollinators like thrips and native bees. They’re surrounded by delicate, layered petals that resemble decorative tissue paper, adding to the flower’s intricate beauty. The genus is host to cochineal scale insects, a relationship that’s significant for humans having we’ve made numerous attempts to farm cochineals for red dye (Alam-Eldein et al., 2021).

The species O. humifusa has an extensive native range and can survive as far north as Michigan. Each species has a slightly different but incredible flower. In USDA hardiness terms, many Opuntia species can survive in zones as low as five and as high as zone 10. O. humifusa is widely available in native plant nurseries. Even if you don’t live in desert states, prickly pear can often be found in big box retailers, often expecting you to keep them indoors if you don’t live in those states. But with a little research into your local Opuntia, you’ll likely find a species that can live outdoors in your area. The entire cactus family has a special place in North and South America, being entirely unique to the hemisphere (with one exception- the mistletoe cactus (Rhipsalis baccifera) is the only known cactus species native to the Old World, found in parts of tropical Africa, Madagascar, and Sri Lanka.).

Conclusion

The peony has gone from a footnote in North America to suddenly being present in every county and in countless yards. Truly an invasion. But how it conquered the continent is a reflection of us rather than of the peony. If left to their own devices, they grow larger, but don’t spread. Their cultivation has made them either inhospitable to pollination, or they suffer from the same issues as many other non-natives, which have a lack of host insects. Their success in North America is purely thanks to humans. Each population is a eukaryotic flag we’ve planted, saying “we’re here, and we’ve won.” Like many wars, they can be started by powers far out of our control but that doesn’t mean that we all don’t have a voice. We can stage a protest by making our land more suitable for plant families that called this country home. We do this so that we don’t have to lose any more families like the countless natives that have surely gone extinct from land development or agriculture. This month ends with us thinking of all the people that have died protecting this country in war. We should also know that there are wars just as existential going on our own soil, our fellow fallen American birds, insects, and plants who all also deserve our mourning.

Dylan Lettinga is a writer, amateur botanist, and market gardener from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Dylan has spent the last three years engrossed in the cultivation of plants native to the Great Lakes and now looks to share them in writing, photography, and at the market.

References

First China War. National Army Museum. (n.d.).

Starr, J. (2022, August 2). The History of Peonies in America. Planters Place.

Mortensen, L. (n.d.). Peony. Wisconsin Horticulture.

Bernhardt, P., Meier, R., & Vance, N. (2013). Pollination ecology and floral function of Brown’s peony (Paeonia brownii) in the Blue Mountains of Northeastern Oregon. Journal of Pollination Ecology, 11, 9–20.

Alam-Eldein, S. M., Omar, A. E.-D., Ennab, H. A., & Omar, A. A. (2021). Cultivation and cultural practices of Opuntia spp.. Opuntia Spp.: Chemistry, Bioactivity and Industrial Applications, 121–158.