This dynamic transcends a mere story of commerce, configuring itself as the symbol of a silent geopolitical battle for the control of 17 essential chemical elements
At the heart of the global race for technological autonomy, an industrial project on French soil is catalyzing the attention of superpowers, highlighting the profound strategic rifts within the Western bloc. The rebirth of the made-in-France rare earth refining supply chain, while hailed as a bulwark against the Chinese monopoly, is finding an enthusiastic buyer across the Atlantic, in the United States, while European industry remains strangely cautious and fragmented. This dynamic transcends a mere story of commerce, configuring itself as the symbol of a silent geopolitical battle for the control of 17 chemical elements — from neodymium to dysprosium — essential for every aspect of our modernity: from wind turbines to electric vehicles, from hypersonic missiles to smartphones.
For decades, the world has delegated almost the entirety of the processing of these critical raw materials to China, with Beijing now controlling over 90% of global refining, a dominance that translates into unparalleled economic and political leverage. Europe, in particular, finds itself in a position of extreme vulnerability, importing annually about 16,000 tons of rare earth magnets, almost entirely from the People’s Republic, a dependency that the European Union’s Critical Raw Materials Act has desperately tried to mitigate. It is in this scenario of high insecurity that pioneering projects, such as the one launched by the company EnviroREe or the revival plans of the Solvay group in southern France, stand as hope for a rebalancing of the supply chain.
The crux of this initiative lies in the capacity to develop extraction and separation methods that are not only efficient, but also less polluting than Chinese standards, often marred by questionable environmental practices. The French project focuses mainly on the recycling of magnets and industrial waste, a form of urban mining that promises to close the product cycle, reducing the ecological footprint. The declared objective of some of these entities is ambitious: to reach up to 30% of the European demand for some rare earths by 2030, a share that would represent a giant step towards the continent’s technological sovereignty.
And here the strategic divergence comes into play. Washington, obsessed with national security and post-pandemic diversification, sees in the made-in-France a crucial partner. US companies, often supported by direct funding or purchase guarantees provided by legislative acts such as the Defense Production Act, have moved quickly to secure long-term off-take agreements with French producers. This approach is driven by a clear geopolitical logic: the stability of supply, even at a marginally higher cost, takes absolute priority over the immediate price, especially for sectors like defense and aerospace.
In contrast, major European players, particularly in the automotive and consumer electronics sectors, continue to move with extreme caution. Despite appeals from Brussels and the rhetoric on supply chain resilience, European companies hesitate to sign multi-year contracts with new Western producers.
The reason lies almost always in the price: Chinese rare earths, benefiting from state subsidies and less stringent environmental regulation, remain irresistibly cheaper. This reluctance is in fact putting a brake on the full realization of the production potential in France. Projects like that of MagReesource, which aims to produce about 1,000 tons of magnets per year by 2027 – although a notable milestone – constitute modest volumes in the face of continental needs.
The contradiction is clear: while the European Union allocates significant funds (consider the 50-150 million euros planned in various national roadmaps for processing and refining between 2024 and 2028) to incentivize the internal value chain, it is the United States that is capitalizing on the emerging productive output. If the industry of the Old Continent does not soon overcome its “addiction to low prices” and does not commit to binding contracts that guarantee the economic sustainability of projects like the French one, the goal of autonomy will remain a chimera, and European technological security will continue to depend on a precarious geopolitical balance managed by Beijing and, ironically, guaranteed in part by American strategic purchases. Time is running out, and Europe’s green and digital future is also being played out on the ability to give trust and stability to those who, like France, are trying to extract value and independence from industrial garbage.
