The von Moltke Connection
About thirty years ago, I met the lovely Stewart McKinney and his wife, Shiobhan. Stewart will come back into this story later, but I remember him mentioning the name of a person he regarded as one of his heroes in life. At the time, the name meant very little to me. It was many years before I heard it again—and that was when I started watching SAS: Rogue Heroes.
You can probably guess who it was, Major Paddy Mayne
It is worth remembering that Stewart had been part of Willie John McBride’s famous British & Irish Lions team that toured South Africa in 1974 and returned victorious. So, when Stewart spoke about someone he regarded as a hero, I took notice.
I have a few heroes of my own, and one of them has an interesting connection to my own life—because I have actually met his grandson.
To explain that, we need to go back much further.
The von Moltke Family
In 1868, the Prussian Field Marshal Helmuth von Moltke the Elder played a major role in Prussia’s victory over Austria. He was one of the great military figures of his time, and his contribution helped pave the way for Bismarck’s eventual unification of Germany in 1871-1872.
For his service to Prussia and Germany, the von Moltke family became enormously influential and was associated with a large estate at Kreisau in Silesia, then part of Germany and now in modern-day Poland. Depending on the language, you will see the name written as Kreisau or Creisau
There was another famous military figure in the family: Helmuth von Moltke the Younger, a great-nephew of the elder Moltke. At the beginning of the First World War, he was Chief of the German General Staff and was involved in the German advance through Belgium in 1914.
But neither of those men is the Moltke I admire most.
That man was Helmuth James von Moltke.
Helmuth James von Moltke
Helmuth James von Moltke was born into the family in 1907 and eventually became a qualified lawyer. During the Second World War, he worked in military intelligence, which gave him a position from which he could see what was happening inside Nazi Germany.
He was particularly concerned about the persecution of Jews and the increasingly brutal nature of the Nazi regime.
As the war progressed, Helmuth James and a group of other like-minded Germans began discussing what Germany might look like after Hitler. They met at the old family estate at Kreisau, forming what became known as the Kreisau Circle.
Their objective was not simply to defeat Hitler militarily. They were thinking about what a post-Nazi Germany should look like—one based on law, Christianity, human dignity and civil rights.
This is where Helmuth James became extraordinary.
He was willing to use his family connections and position, but he also understood that he was taking an enormous personal risk. His opposition to the persecution of Jews became increasingly strong as the Holocaust intensified.
I remember thinking: Why didn’t Hitler have him arrested years earlier, as he did with so many others?
Part of the answer was probably the enormous reputation and historical importance of the von Moltke family within the German state and military establishment. Helmuth James was also careful about how openly he opposed the regime.
There is a particularly moving letter in which he explained his position regarding the treatment of Jews. His Christian beliefs made it impossible for him to accept the persecution of other human beings simply because they were Jewish.
The End of Helmuth James
Eventually, however, the Nazis caught up with him.
In January 1944, Helmuth James was arrested by the Gestapo. He was subsequently brought before the notorious Nazi People’s Court, presided over by Roland Freisler.
His supposed crime was treason.
In reality, his “treason” was that he had been thinking about and helping to prepare for a Germany that would exist after Hitler.
Helmuth James was sentenced to death and was hanged at Plötzensee Prison in Berlin on 23 January 1945—only a few months before the end of the war.
He was just 37 years old.
What makes his story even more remarkable to me is that he had not been a conventional revolutionary. He was an aristocrat, a lawyer and a member of one of Germany’s most distinguished military families. He could have attempted to protect himself and his family by remaining silent.
Instead, he chose to stand against the regime.
What Happened to the Family?
After Helmuth James was executed, his wife, Freya von Moltke, and their young son, Caspar, eventually left Germany. They eventually settled in Montreal, Canada.
The family estate at Kreisau had, in the aftermath of the First World War, passed out of the family’s control and eventually became part of Poland. During and after the war it fell into considerable disrepair.
Then, decades later, something remarkable happened.
Around 1989–1990, during the dramatic political changes taking place in Europe, Freya von Moltke was invited to return to Kreisau. The German and Polish authorities supported the restoration of the estate, and it eventually became a place dedicated to European reconciliation, civil rights and education.
Today, the former Kreisau estate is known as the Krzysztofory? No—more properly, the Kreisau/Krzyżowa Foundation and Memorial, and it serves as an international centre for education, dialogue and European understanding.
And Then I Met His Grandson
Now we come to the strange coincidence that connects all of this history to my own life.
At the time, I was playing rugby in New Zealand. We had just beaten Auckland in the final of the AIG South Pacific Championship, the competition that preceded what eventually became the Super 12, Super 14 and later Super Rugby.
I had a few days before I needed to return to Xerox, where I was working at the time, so I decided to visit some friends in Montreal. I had never been to Canada before.
During a lunch with my friends and their families, I met a young man sitting at the end of the table on my left. He was on holiday from Oxford University, having just completed his first year.
I was talking to Peter, who was sitting immediately to my right, when I heard the young man’s surname.
Von Moltke.
I stopped and asked if I had heard correctly.
I had.
The young man’s name was James—and he was the grandson of Helmuth James von Moltke.
I could hardly believe the coincidence.
Here I was, a rugby player from New Zealand, sitting at a family lunch in Montreal, and completely by chance I had met the grandson of one of the German historical figures I had come to admire.
When I returned to New Zealand, I became even more interested in the Canadian connection and started finding out what had happened to the family after the war.
Freya von Moltke had eventually settled in Montreal with her son Caspar. Caspar went on to have a distinguished career of his own.
And the young man I had met that day?
He was about seven years younger than me, and at the time he was simply a student home from Oxford.
Today, he is James von Moltke, and he became a senior figure in international banking, including serving as President of Deutsche Bank.
So that is the story.
It began for me with a name mentioned by Stewart McKinney more than thirty years ago. I then encountered that name again through history and television, discovered the remarkable story of Helmuth James von Moltke and the Kreisau Circle, and eventually—quite by chance—found myself sitting at a lunch table in Montreal with his grandson.
Sometimes history has a strange way of reaching out of the past and sitting down beside you at the dinner table.
