A Controversy Renewed

THE ROSENBERG case is news again. Two television programs, a best-selling book, numerous magazine articles, and the refusal of the F B I to release their files on the case, all in the past year, have helped to rekindle the controversy. The reasons for this renewed attention are not difficult to understand. With the emergence from the Cold War period, the McCarthy era mentality which made communism a dirty word--even a frightening word--has largely faded away. The detente orientation of American foreign policy makes it natural for an average citizen to see the Rosenbergs in a less hostile light than several years ago. And of course, the much discussed "post-Watergate morality" is conducive to a re-examination of the case, particularly since President Nixon's personal rise to power began with his success in the other great witch hunt of that time, the Hiss case. A final and very important factor is the Rosenberg's sons, who after twenty years of anonymity have decided to publicly identify themselves with their parents and are advocating the establishment of a commission to review the evidence.

"I constantly reread the history of the case and I always hope that the Supreme Court will side with Justice Douglas and review the whole thing. But it never happens that way." The speaker is Michael Meeropol. Originally his name was Michael Rosenberg. Ethel and Julius Rosenberg were electrocuted when he was ten years old. Their crime, according to Judge Irving R. Kaufman who sentenced them to death, was nothing less than helping to precipitate the Korean War, thus causing over 50,000 American lives to be lost, and "altering the course of history to the disadvantage of our country."

The Rosenbergs were arrested in 1950 and charged with having been ring-leaders of a Soviet spying organization which during the Second World War succeeded in pilfering what was then referred to as "the secret of the atomic bomb." They were tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. The case turned on two key witnesses. One was David Greenglass, Ethel Rosenberg's brother, who cooperated with the government and sent his sister and brother-in-law to the electric chair in return for a reduced sentence. The other was Harry Gold, a self-confessed spy who also traded his testimony for a lighter punishment. After two years of appeals, the Supreme Court voted by a six-to-three margin not to review the case, and President Eisenhower refused to commute the sentence. Eisenhower was apparently somewhat sympathetic to the Rosenbergs' plight, but Attorney General Herbert Brownell managed to convince him that the death penalty was necessary, reportedly telling Eisenhower, "Mr. President, those folks have simply got to fry."

Although during the weeks preceding the executions massive protests took place in cities throughout the world (the first major anti-American demonstrations of the post-war period), the furor over the case died very quickly. The Rosenberg children, Michael and Robert, were adopted by a family whose name they took. Greenglass went to prison, served part of his time, and is presently living under an assumed name. Harry Gold died ten years ago, shortly after his release from prison.

There are two key questions which dominate the present controversy. Was the case in its entirety a frameup concocted by the F.B.I.? Or, if indeed espionage did take place, was it really of such consequence that the death penalty should even have been considered? The answer to the second question was stated succinctly by scientist Phillip Morrison who holds a co-patent on the atomic bomb, on the television program The Unquiet Death of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg: "There is no secret to the atomic bomb." Clearly the Rosenbergs were executed for invalid reasons in the sense that it was simply impossible to attribute Soviet possession of the atomic bomb to their actions, as Judge Kaufman did. In addition, setting aside the moral question of capital punishment, the death penalty was particularly uncalled for since the crime supposedly took place at a time when the United States was allied with the Soviet Union. And even the trial was conducted during peace time.

So the executions were a travesty. But there remains the question of the trial itself. There are many factors which cast serious doubt upon the legitimacy of the entire process. Much of the doubt centers on the testimony of Harry Gold, who made a full confession, accepting a thirty year sentence without ever standing trial. Gold was an extremely unstable personality, perhaps even a schizophrenic. His last employer said in a statement after his death, "Harry Gold was a very gentle man who had trouble distinguishing between reality and fantasy." An important problem in his life, and one which may have had a serious impact on the case, was Gold's homosexuality. Homosexuality in the 1930s required a kind of double life, and since Gold's initial involvement with the Communist Party came through his association with a fellow homosexual, a man known as Tom Black, the two elements--homosexuality and communism, both demanding secrecy and subterfuge--became intertwined in his life. There is good reason to believe that when the FBI investigated him he was threatened with exposure as a homosexual (a common practice of the bureau at that time) which may have increased his desire to cooperate.

Gold claimed that when he contacted David Greenglass in New Mexico to collect information his password was "I come from Julius." This was the only direct connection he ever made between himself and the Rosenbergs. Interestingly enough, the FBI man who interrogated him has admitted that at first Gold could not remember the name used in the password but thought it was something like "Benny" of "John." It was only when asked by the investigator if it might have been Julius that Gold suddenly recalled the exact phrase.

An additional question, raised by Walter and Miriam Schneir in their book Invitation to an Inquest, is whether Gold was even in New Mexico at the time he was supposed to have contacted Greenglass. The Schneirs have demonstrated that there is good reason to believe that the hotel registration card which the FBI used as documentation was a forgery.

Parts of the trial itself are very suspect. The jury, which was entirely white, included no Jews, and no one who could be considered anything but politically conservative; the prosecution, but not the defense, had access to the FBI files of prospective jurors. U.S. Attorney Irving Saypol frequently alluded to secret evidence which he claimed could not be presented in court, and after the trial Judge Kaufman told the jury that a great deal more evidence had existed. No such evidence has ever been produced.

Whether there was any such incriminating evidence, whether Gold was telling the truth or simply imagining himself a spy, are questions which can not be answered. Neither Greenglass or Judge Kaufman are willing to discuss the case, as might be expected. But there are massive FBI files which should provide some information. The FBI was ordered by Attorney General Elliot Richardson '41 to release these files to scholars studying the case, but as of now they have refused to do so, claiming that the availability of the documents would be injurious to some people directly involved who are still alive.

The controversy over the Rosenberg Case will not simply subside. Michael and Robert Meeropol have made clear their intention to press for a full investigation. While the damage done to them can never be undone, it is still of great importance that the government, at the very least, reopen the case.

Discovering the truth about the Rosenbergs is not simply an academic problem. It is essential, particularly in light of recent events, to examine any possible abuse of governmental power so that steps can be taken to make sure that it does not recur. Julius and Ethel Rosenberg should be alive today. The sickness which killed them, a paranoid fear of deviancy, may be less prevalent in America today than it was twenty-one years ago, but it is still very much with us.