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Eighty years have passed since the end of World War II and the liberation of Germany from tyranny. As we reflect on those times, I feel compelled—not only as someone working closely with the House of Ascania, but as a citizen with a conscience—to share a story I believe deserves more light.
This is the story of our last reigning Duke, Joachim Ernst von Anhalt—a nobleman who stood against a rising regime when silence was easier. His refusal to cooperate with its propaganda, to trade his family’s honor for favor, led to imprisonment, suffering, and ultimately, death
But the consequences did not stop with him. In return for his resistance, his house was disowned of its lands, its cultural foundations overtaken, and its history buried beneath political convenience.
This article is written not as a historian looking in, but as someone within the legacy he helped preserve. I write this as a tribute to a man of principle, and as a reminder that not all Germans followed Hitler—and some, like Joachim Ernst, paid dearly for refusing to.
This is the story of our last reigning Duke, Joachim Ernst von Anhalt—a nobleman who stood against a rising regime when silence was easier. His refusal to cooperate with its propaganda, to trade his family’s honor for favor, led to imprisonment, suffering, and ultimately, death
But the consequences did not stop with him. In return for his resistance, his house was disowned of its lands, its cultural foundations overtaken, and its history buried beneath political convenience.
This article is written not as a historian looking in, but as someone within the legacy he helped preserve. I write this as a tribute to a man of principle, and as a reminder that not all Germans followed Hitler—and some, like Joachim Ernst, paid dearly for refusing to.
A 1000-Year Legacy, Silenced
The House of Ascania, to which Duke Joachim Ernst belonged, has a history stretching back nearly a millennium. Their name is woven into the very fabric of central Europe—rulers, reformers, architects of culture and peace. Catherine the Great herself came from this line. And yet, after 1945, this house, one of the oldest in German history, was left with nothing.
After the 1918 revolution ended the German monarchies, Joachim Ernst, then only 17, created a foundation that included Wörlitzer Park—a cultural treasure meant to be preserved for public good. This wasn’t a man clinging to past titles. He was adapting nobility to a modern world.
Like his Enlightenment-era ancestors—especially Duke Leopold III Friedrich Franz, who maintained intellectual exchanges with figures like Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Benjamin Franklin—the House of Ascania upheld a vision of modern, humanistic rule. While no specific meetings are documented, records confirm contact through correspondence and shared diplomatic circles, particularly during Franklin's time in France and the broader European Enlightenment network.
That legacy of progress, culture, and reform was trampled first by a dictatorship, and then erased by another. This deeper connection between the House of Ascania and the Age of Enlightenment will be explored more fully in an upcoming article.
After the 1918 revolution ended the German monarchies, Joachim Ernst, then only 17, created a foundation that included Wörlitzer Park—a cultural treasure meant to be preserved for public good. This wasn’t a man clinging to past titles. He was adapting nobility to a modern world.
Like his Enlightenment-era ancestors—especially Duke Leopold III Friedrich Franz, who maintained intellectual exchanges with figures like Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Benjamin Franklin—the House of Ascania upheld a vision of modern, humanistic rule. While no specific meetings are documented, records confirm contact through correspondence and shared diplomatic circles, particularly during Franklin's time in France and the broader European Enlightenment network.
That legacy of progress, culture, and reform was trampled first by a dictatorship, and then erased by another. This deeper connection between the House of Ascania and the Age of Enlightenment will be explored more fully in an upcoming article.
He Refused to Be Their Pawn
The Nazi regime attempted to court many from the old nobility. Some were tempted. Others were frightened. But Joachim Ernst stood firm—just as others like Claus von Stauffenberg and members of Germany’s historic noble families did. Together, they formed a quiet but courageous current of resistance from within the very ranks the regime sought to co-opt. He refused to lend his name to their cause, even when they tried to exploit the legacy of Albert the Bear to bolster their campaigns. His refusal was noticed—and it cost him.
I want to make this point very clear: Joachim Ernst never joined the Nazi Party. Claims that he did were fabricated—false entries made by local authorities trying to impress their superiors. His name was used without his consent, and when he pushed back, the regime retaliated.
He was arrested, sent to a forced labor camp, and then imprisoned in one of the regime’s infamous detention centers. His health deteriorated. And still, he did not bend.
I want to make this point very clear: Joachim Ernst never joined the Nazi Party. Claims that he did were fabricated—false entries made by local authorities trying to impress their superiors. His name was used without his consent, and when he pushed back, the regime retaliated.
He was arrested, sent to a forced labor camp, and then imprisoned in one of the regime’s infamous detention centers. His health deteriorated. And still, he did not bend.
Liberation Brought Only Brief Freedom
After the war ended, the Americans offered him safe passage. He declined, believing that centuries of family ties to Russia—through Catherine the Great and others—would protect him. But the new regime that rose in the east was no safer.
When Soviet forces took over, they viewed aristocrats like him not as survivors, but as threats. He was arrested again, this time by the NKVD. He was sent to Buchenwald, now repurposed as a Soviet internment camp. There, he died in 1947.
His death was not just the end of a life. It was the quiet execution of a legacy. And it was carried out by those who claimed to be liberators.
When Soviet forces took over, they viewed aristocrats like him not as survivors, but as threats. He was arrested again, this time by the NKVD. He was sent to Buchenwald, now repurposed as a Soviet internment camp. There, he died in 1947.
His death was not just the end of a life. It was the quiet execution of a legacy. And it was carried out by those who claimed to be liberators.
A Legacy Seized: The Estates Taken from the House of Ascania
Here’s where the injustice deepens: across Germany, many noble and private families were compensated or had their estates returned after reunification. Grand halls, private parks, cultural foundations—once lost—were restored to those whose titles and claims aligned with the new legal frameworks. Yet the House of Ascania, despite its 1000-year history and the sacrifices of Duke Joachim Ernst, received none of what was once theirs.
Yet despite Duke Joachim Ernst’s resistance to the regime—and the severe consequences he suffered for it—the House of Ascania was never restored. The very fact that he stood against the dictatorship, that he was imprisoned, silenced, and ultimately died in captivity, did not result in acknowledgment, let alone justice. On the contrary, the legacy he sought to preserve was quietly claimed and absorbed by the state.
Yet while others were restored, the House of Ascania received nothing.
Because the Soviets seized Ascanian lands between 1945 and 1949, the legal structure of reunified Germany excluded any claim to restitution. The castles, parks, and art collections—Wörlitzer Park, Ballenstedt Castle, and more—remain in state hands.
The very foundation Joachim Ernst created to preserve culture was overtaken, its name erased, and its purpose buried. Today, the public walks through these gardens and halls, unaware that they were protected by a man who stood against fascism—and died for it.
Yet despite Duke Joachim Ernst’s resistance to the regime—and the severe consequences he suffered for it—the House of Ascania was never restored. The very fact that he stood against the dictatorship, that he was imprisoned, silenced, and ultimately died in captivity, did not result in acknowledgment, let alone justice. On the contrary, the legacy he sought to preserve was quietly claimed and absorbed by the state.
Yet while others were restored, the House of Ascania received nothing.
Because the Soviets seized Ascanian lands between 1945 and 1949, the legal structure of reunified Germany excluded any claim to restitution. The castles, parks, and art collections—Wörlitzer Park, Ballenstedt Castle, and more—remain in state hands.
The very foundation Joachim Ernst created to preserve culture was overtaken, its name erased, and its purpose buried. Today, the public walks through these gardens and halls, unaware that they were protected by a man who stood against fascism—and died for it.
Ballenstedt Castle
The ancestral residence of the House of Ascania. Standing at the foot of the Harz mountains, Ballenstedt Castle once housed centuries of rulers and reformers. After World War II, it was seized by Soviet forces and repurposed—never returned to the family that built it.
Wörlitzer Park & Castle
This Enlightenment-era landscape garden and palace complex was among the first of its kind in Europe. Designed as a cultural beacon under Duke Leopold III, it later became part of a foundation created by Joachim Ernst to preserve public heritage—only to be absorbed into the state, erasing its founding legacy.
Dessau Palace
Former residence of the Anhalt-Dessau line, Dessau Palace was a centerpiece of civic modernization and cultural ambition. Its halls once hosted intellectuals and diplomats of the 18th and 19th centuries. Post-war, it fell to public use without restitution.
Zerbst Castle
Known as the childhood home of Catherine the Great, Zerbst Castle held symbolic power for the Anhalt-Zerbst branch. Severely damaged during WWII, its ruins stand as a metaphor for a dynasty dismantled and denied its own inheritance.
Bernburg Castle
Seat of the Anhalt-Bernburg line, perched above the Saale River, Bernburg Castle was an emblem of continuity and regional leadership. Nationalized after the war, it now houses public institutions, with no return to its historic stewards.
Köthen Castle
Famed as a cultural hub during the Baroque period—where even Johann Sebastian Bach worked—Köthen Castle was a residence of the Anhalt-Köthen rulers. Today, it is a museum and cultural venue, its private lineage stripped away.
Plötzkau Castle
A quieter seat tied to the Anhalt-Plötzkau branch, Plötzkau Castle nonetheless represents the broader web of estates governed by the Ascanian family. Like the others, it was confiscated and remains outside of their hands.
Luisium Palace
A neoclassical villa built by Duke Leopold III for his wife Louise, Luisium was a personal retreat and Enlightenment-era sanctuary. It was also part of the Dessau-Wörlitz Garden Realm, and now rests under state protection, detached from the house that envisioned it.
Let His Name Be Remembered
The House of Ascania remains actively engaged in preserving its history, even as its ancestral estates now lie in public hands. The frescoes in Ballenstedt and the statues of Wörlitz are admired by countless visitors, yet few know the story behind them. Plaques and signage remain silent on why the family was erased from history—a silence that speaks volumes.
It wasn’t an accident. It was punishment—for resisting
Duke Joachim Ernst von Anhalt didn’t just lose his freedom. He lost his name, his lands, his legacy. And 80 years later, that injustice still echoes.
There were few who stood up. Fewer who paid the price. And almost none who have been remembered for it.
Joachim Ernst should be one of them. His story is not just our family’s story—it’s Germany’s. A Germany that still, 80 years later, has not reckoned with all of its truths.
This is written so the silence does not become permanent.
There were few who stood up. Fewer who paid the price. And almost none who have been remembered for it.
Joachim Ernst should be one of them. His story is not just our family’s story—it’s Germany’s. A Germany that still, 80 years later, has not reckoned with all of its truths.
It wasn’t an accident. It was punishment—for resisting
Duke Joachim Ernst von Anhalt didn’t just lose his freedom. He lost his name, his lands, his legacy. And 80 years later, that injustice still echoes.
There were few who stood up. Fewer who paid the price. And almost none who have been remembered for it.
Joachim Ernst should be one of them. His story is not just our family’s story—it’s Germany’s. A Germany that still, 80 years later, has not reckoned with all of its truths.
This is written so the silence does not become permanent.
There were few who stood up. Fewer who paid the price. And almost none who have been remembered for it.
Joachim Ernst should be one of them. His story is not just our family’s story—it’s Germany’s. A Germany that still, 80 years later, has not reckoned with all of its truths.
Stephan von Falkenstein
Digital Director of the House of Ascania
Digital Director of the House of Ascania
