This episode of American Scandal recounts the trial and execution of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and Morton Sobel for espionage during the Cold War. The prosecution, led by Irving Saypol, painted the defendants as communist traitors, despite the judge’s initial ruling that communism was not on trial. The case hinged on testimony from David Greenglass, Ethel’s brother, who claimed the couple recruited him and that Ethel typed secret atomic information—claims later shown to be partly fabricated. The jury convicted all three, and Judge Kaufman, influenced by Roy Cohn, sentenced the Rosenbergs to death, while Sobel received 30 years. Appeals and clemency pleas, including from Albert Einstein and Pope Pius XII, failed; President Eisenhower declined to intervene, viewing the couple as unrepentant enemies. The Rosenbergs were executed in 1953, with Ethel’s death drawing particular controversy. David Greenglass served time and faced public hatred, while later declassified Venona cables proved Julius’s guilt but suggested Ethel’s involvement was minimal. In 1996, Greenglass admitted lying about Ethel’s role. The episode highlights the hysteria of the Red Scare, the moral complexities of the case, and the lasting questions about justice, loyalty, and the cost of ideological conviction.
Audible subscribers can binge new seasons of American Scandal early and ad-free right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple podcasts. American Scandal uses dramatizations that are based on true events. Some elements including dialogue might be invented, but everything is based on historical research. It's the morning of March 6th, 1951, inside the Foley Square Courthouse in Manhattan. US Attorney Irving Saiple rises from the prosecution's table to deliver his opening statement. Behind him, the dimly lit courtroom is packed. There are news reporters from around the world, heavy security presence, and a few lucky members of the public who manage to get seats. The trial of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and their associate Morton Sobel has just begun, and Saiple can fuel attention in the room. The stakes are high. The Rosenbergs and Sobel are charged with conspiracy to commit espionage, and if convicted, they face sentences of 30 years in prison or even death. But the prosecutors are under pressure, too. With the Cold War escalating month by month, the government has made rooting out communist spies in America a priority. A lot of reputations are on the line with this case, so anything less than a conviction will be a damaging embarrassment. But Saiple is confident. At the age of 47, he's already secured a string of espionage convictions, and the press has dubbed him the country's number one legal hunter of top communists. Now, as he approaches the jury box, he hopes to add three more names to his tally. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the three defendants before you are charged with conspiracy to commit espionage. To prove this, the government simply needs to show two things. First, that the defendants agreed to carry out espionage, and second, that they each took at least one overt act to advance that agreement. But in this trial, you will hear proof of much more than that. The evidence will show many such acts by the defendants, and all of these acts were performed in furtherance of a plan to commit espionage for the benefit of the Soviet Union. Saiple stares into the jurors' eyes as he continues. The evidence will show that the loyalty and allegiance of the Rosenbergs and Morton Sobel were not to the United States, but to communism. Communism in this country and communism throughout the world. Hearing this, defense lawyer Manny Block rises from a seat. Your honor, I'd like to instruct Mr. Saiple to refrain from any further statements about communism. Communism is not on trial here, and being a communist is not a crime. The defendants are charged with espionage, Your Honor, and I object to these remarks as irrelevant to the charges. And I object to this interruption. Well, I'm sorry, but you're already making this about the defendant's political beliefs. If you continue on like this, it'll be impossible for my clients to receive a fair trial. Judge Irving Kaufman steps in between the bickering lawyers and rules in favor of the defense, telling Saiple to leave communism out of it. Saiple grins as he accepts the ruling. Of course, Your Honor, and I apologize to the jury for Mr. Block's outburst. So let's return to the evidence. The evidence that will show the defendant's loyalty and worship of the Soviet Union is led them to a deliberate, carefully planned conspiracy to deliver to the Soviet Union, the information and weapons which the Soviet Union could use to destroy it all. Irving Saiple then lays out the basic story of how Julius and Ethel Rosenberg lure David Greenglass into passing them secrets from inside Los Alamos. Saiple is careful not to mention communism again, but he doesn't need to. He's already accomplished his goal, branding the defendants as communists and linking their crimes to their ideology. Communism may not technically be on trial, but in the eyes of the public and the jury, it might as well be. Police in Irvinge, California are investigating the double murder of a young couple in the parking lot of their apartment complex. A double homicide grabs the public's attention by the throat. We have identified Christopher Dorner as a suspect in this double homicide. A former cop and still on the loose. Considered armed and extremely dangerous. And scariest of all, he left something behind. A particular interest is a multi-page manifesto. This manifesto on Facebook is 11 pages long. Trace, this manifesto from this suspect who's targeting cops, it's stunning. Listen to the show, the New Yorker calls one of the best podcasts of the summer. Dan Tabersky's manifesto. And I tell you, this manifesto, it scares the hell out of me. Listen to Dan Tabersky's manifesto, wherever you get your podcasts, or binge the entire series right now, only with Audible. [Music] From Audible originals, I'm Lindsey Graham. And this is "American Scam." [Music] It took two weeks for the prosecution to present its case against Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and their associate Morton Sobel. Prosecutors called 19 witnesses, including the career Harry Gold and the Rosenberg's sister-in-law Ruth Greenglass. Gold testified about his trips to New Mexico to obtain information about the Los Alamos research facility. And Ruth repeated her story of seeing Ethel type up information for Soviet intelligence. But the star witness was David Greenglass. David told the court how Julius and Ethel had encouraged him to become a communist as a teenager and had later recruited him as a spy for the Soviets. And he echoed Ruth's testimony about his sister Ethel typing up his notes, though in reality he had no such memory. On March 21, prosecutors rested their case. The following day, the defense called its first witness, and Julius Rosenberg stepped onto the witness stand with the fate of both himself and his wife on the line. This is episode four, The Martyrs. It's the morning of March 22, 1951, inside the Foley Square Courthouse in Manhattan. Julius Rosenberg takes a seat on the witness stand, then calmly crosses his legs and interlocks his fingers as he prepares to testify. These gestures are practiced and intentional. Julius wants to exude a sense of easy confidence to the jurors, though the stakes couldn't be higher, his strategy is simple. Plainly and believably reject, every accusation the prosecution witnesses have made against him and his wife Ethel. Some of those accusations are true, some are false, but that doesn't matter much. Julius is sticking with a plan he's had since before he was arrested, admit nothing, and deny everything. After Julius is sworn in, his lawyer, Manny Block, begins the questioning. Block walks Julius through the stories David and Ruth Greenglass have told. Point by point, Julius not only denies their claims but tries to turn the tables on them. Julius claims it was actually Ruth who came to him in 1944. He says that she was terrified her husband David wanted to spy for the Soviets. Julius insists that he begged Ruth not to let David do it, but apparently David decided otherwise and passed the Russian's atomic secrets on his own without any help from the Rosenbergs. Julius testifies that he never saw David's sketches of atomic weaponry and that his wife Ethel never typed up any notes. He even goes so far as to claim that he didn't know David was stationed in Los Alamos at the time. Then Block asks Julius why would David lie? Julius looks pained and testifies that in the years following the war the Greenglasses were in rough shape financially. Things got so bad that David tried blackmailing him for money, making vague threats that Julius would be sorry if he didn't hand it over. Julius still refused and the relationship deteriorated from that point on. So when David was arrested by the FBI, naturally he chose to implicate Julius as the fall guy. Little of what Julius says is true, but he hopes it's at least plausible enough to put some bount in the jurors' mind. But then the judge, Irving Kaufman, says he has some questions of his own. Kaufman asks how Julius feels about the economic system of the Soviet Union and how a comparison to the United States. This is a strange question because from the very beginning, judge Kaufman made it clear to the courtroom that communism wouldn't be on trial, but now he's apparently changed his mind. Julius considers his words before replying. He says that he admires how the Soviets have improved the lives of the lower classes by teaching them to read and write. And he adds that Russia did the world a great service in helping defeat the Nazis. Julius explains that the people of each country had the right to choose their own system of government. And if a country wants to be communist or capitalist or even a monarchy, then that's their business. Julius hopes he's given a vague enough answer to get through the question on scale, but judge Kaufman gets more specific. He wants to know if Julius has ever belonged to a group that discussed the Soviet Union's political system. It's a strangely worded question, but Julius understands what Kaufman is getting at. He is asking whether Julius has ever belonged to a communist organization without actually using the word
word communist. And the truth is that Julius has been a member of communist organization since he was a teenager. But he's not going to say that on the stand. So Julius invokes the Fifth Amendment. It's what his lawyers coached him to do before the trial, and it's his only option when facing a question like this. Still Julius knows it's not ideal. The jury will likely take him pleading the Fifth as an admission that he's a communist, but it's the best Julius can do. Kaufman has clearly ignored his own instructions to disregard the Rosenberg's political belief, and Julius only hopes the jurors will remember Kaufman's original directives better than the judge himself. Following Julius' testimony, his wife Ethel takes the stand. She backs up Julius' story that the couple had nothing to do with David Greenglass's espionage, and she also pleads the Fifth when asked about her ties to communism. But the most memorable moment of Ethel's testimony comes just before she leaves a stand. The Rosenberg's lawyer asks if Ethel still loves her brother. Quietly Ethel replies that she used to, but after everything David has done, that's changed. They're the last words she says in her defense, both she and Julius have done all they can. On March 28, 1951, the defense and the prosecution make their closing arguments. Then, before sending the jurors off to deliberate, Judge Kaufman gives them his final instructions. Kaufman explains that if the defendants are found guilty, they could be sentenced to 30 years in prison or even given the death penalty. Kaufman stresses to the jury that they are not to let either possible sentence affect their decision. They must simply decide the case on the defendant's innocence or guilt. It will be up to Kaufman alone to hand down whatever punishments are due. That evening, the jurors deliberate until well past midnight. But despite seven hours of debate, they're unable to reach a verdict, so they agree to resume the following day. The next morning, the Blyrii jurors meet again. Pouring themselves coffee, they slowly take their places around the long table in the center of the jury room. Last to sit down, is James Gibbons, a bookkeeper for a bus company. As he slides into his chair, the forum in Vincent Levinet announces he'd like to start the day by taking a boat. He wants to see how close they are to actually reaching a verdict. Levinet asks all those who now believe the defendants are guilty to raise their hands. Gibbons glances around the table, as 11 other hands are raised in the air, but Gibbons remains in his lap. Everyone in the room turns to look at him, and Levinet asks what the holdup is. Gibbons explains that he's actually pretty sure they're guilty. All three are obviously devoted communists, and it makes sense that they would try to help the Soviet Union. It's also hard to believe that David Greenglass would just make up stories to convict his own family members. The forum in Levinet lets out a frustrated sigh. He then asks Gibbons why he voted not guilty if he actually thinks the opposite. So Gibbons says quietly that it's something else that is making him hesitate. He reminds the room that if convicted, the defendants could get the death penalty. He knows the judge told them not to let that affect their decision, but the idea of sending a young woman with two children to her death is still ways heavily on his conscience. Levinet nods and says he can empathize, but then he suggests Gibbons think about it from a different angle. Ethel helped America's greatest enemy build its nuclear arsenal, and no doubt right now, one of those bombs is pointed right at them at Manhattan. With a push of a button, Joseph Stalin could vaporize Gibbons and everyone he loves. That's the power Ethel knowingly gave the Soviets. So Levinet asks Gibbons why he's showing mercy to her when she would show none to him. As Gibbons ponders that, Levinet continues, he reminds Gibbons that there's no guarantee that Ethel and the others will be sentenced to death. Other American civilians have been convicted of espionage in recent years and none of them have been executed. Gibbons should just do his job and let the judge worry about the sentencing. Gibbons can't argue with that final point. He was explicitly told not to let the death penalty cloud his thinking. So while even the possibility of sending Ethel to the electric chair makes him queasy, his only real choice is to do as he was instructed. So the next time Levinet calls a vote, Gibbons raises his hand. The decision is now unanimous, the Rosenbergs and Morton Sobel are guilty. An hour later those verdicts are read in court. There are gasps from the defendant's families and members of the public. The prosecutors celebrate with handshakes all around, but the Rosenbergs and Sobel show little outward emotion, staring straight ahead, stone faced, and subdued. From the bench Judge Erwin Kaufman says that he believes the jury came to the correct verdict. He's scheduled sentencing for the following week and then the Rosenbergs and Sobel are handcuffed and led back to jail to await their fates. These guilty verdicts are celebrated in Washington, but FBI director Jager Hoover isn't done with the case yet. Soon after the convictions he sends a letter to the attorney general with his sentencing recommendations. Months ago, Hoover urged prosecutors to charge Ethel Rosenberg with conspiracy. The evidence against her was thin, but he hoped the threat of conviction would persuade Julius to start talking. That didn't work, and for a time Hoover was worried that Ethel would walk free. But now that she's been convicted, Hoover has no desire to see her executed. In his memo he recommends 30 years imprisonment over the death penalty. But it is not ultimately up to Hoover or the attorney general. The fates of the Rosenbergs are now solely in the hands of Judge Erwin Kaufman. At 40 years old, he's young for a federal judge, but he dreams of higher office, and he hopes someday to be appointed to the US Supreme Court. But he's conscious that a case this famous could define the rest of his career. So Kaufman reaches out to the prosecuting attorney Irving Saipoll to gauge the feelings of the Department of Justice. Saipoll then travels to Washington and meets with several top assistants to the attorney general. Then he reports back that the consensus is Julius should be put to death, but they're not so sure about Ethel. Kaufman is on his own with that sense. With just a few days left before he must hand down his decision, Kaufman is still unsure what to do. So he reaches out to Roy Cohn, a special assistant to the prosecution who also participated in the trial. Like Kaufman, Cohn is young and politically ambitious, and Kaufman hopes he'll be able to offer a valuable perspective. So on an evening in the first week of April 1951, Kaufman steps out of his synagogue on Park Avenue and dials Cohn from a nearby payphone. Roy Cohn speaking. Hey Roy, it's Judge Kaufman. You got a minute? Oh, of course. I wanted to pick your brain. This about sentencing? What are you thinking? Well, I've decided so bell is in one category and Julius is definitely in another. Death? I didn't say that. Okay, but it's Ethel. You're really calling about that, right? I'm just wary of how the public will react if she's in the same category as her husband. You have a better fix on these things than I do. What do you think? Well, personally, I think she's worse than Julius. She's older and she's smarter and she's a true believer. You saw her at the trial. She sat there like the whole court was beneath her. No remorse, no fear, not even when her children were mentioned. I know. But if we give her 30 years, then perhaps she'll have time to change her mind. I'm telling you she won't. That's a possibility. Still. I mean, executing a woman. And why should that matter? Oh, you know why. I know what people will say if you spare her. They'll say a woman can commit treason and hide behind her sex. Think about it. She's just as guilty as her husband. You'd really only be sparing her because she's a woman, right? That doesn't seem like justice to me. In fact, I'd argue he would be showin' us not to execute her. Irving Kaufman hadn't considered that angle before, but Roy Cohn has a point. Kaufman would never single a woman out for harsher punishment, so showing Ethel Rosenberg leniency would be just as bad. Kaufman thanks Cohn for his perspective, then hangs up and hails a cab to take him home. He still hasn't made his final decision, but now, if he does choose the death penalty for both Rosenberg's, he has a way to call it fairness. Imagine your reading pride and prejudice, except you're not reading it. Harris Dickinson and Marissa Obella are reading it to you, unaudible. Her Barb sting you. His coldness sends a shiver up your spine. Your heart aches, your ears burn, you yearn for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy to profess their undying love for one another. You can't bear it any longer. Well, maybe a chapter longer. Performance is so good, you'll give love a second chance. Audible. Stories that speak to you. You stepped out for your morning jog, except it's not your usual morning jog. You started listening to an epic sci-fi book, Unaudible. 30 chapters later, you've accidentally run a half marathon. You lost track of how far you've run somewhere just past the city limits. You can't stop. You have to find out what happens next. Then it's over. The universe seems bigger. You feel different. You feel like you have no idea where you are. Audible. On April 5, 1951, Judge Irving Kaufman hands down his sentences. First, Morton Sobel is given 30 years in prison. Then, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg are sentenced to dying the electric chair. Their execution is set for seven weeks later. But a lengthy appeals process is virtually guaranteed, so that date is just a temporary placeholder. In his remarks from from the bench, Kaufman claims he's
never sought advice from the government on sentencing. But in truth, he talked to several people before making his decision. They included prosecutors Irving Saipold and Roy Cohn, as well as top department of justice officials in Washington. The following day, Kaufman sentencing's Ethel's brother, David Greenglass, to 15 years in prison and Greenglass and his lawyers are stunned at the length of the sentence. Based on previous conversations with prosecutors, they assumed he would get a few years at most. Instead, David is transferred to a prison in Pennsylvania, nearly 200 miles away from home, to begin a long stint behind bars. Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, meanwhile, are moved to Sing Sing Prison, 30 miles north of New York City. Their two sons are left in the care of their grandmother, 60-year-old Tessie Greenglass. Tessie has been left shaken by the court's decision, and by the burden it's placed on her. Her son, David, is locked away in prison. Her daughter, Ethel, has a date set with old Sparky, Sing Sing's notorious electric chair, and now Tessie has to look after two small children as well. A few days after the sentences are handed down, Tessie heads up to Sing Sing to visit her daughter. Ethel is kept in what's called the death house, a small building adjacent to the main prison. It has heightened security and is reserved for the handful of prisoners on death row. Just entering the building, sends a chill down Tessie's spine. After passing through several gates and locked doors, she's taken to a small visitor's room with a few tables and chairs. A moment later, a pair of guards brings her daughter Ethel in. Ethel is shackled and sits down heavily in her chair. There's a strict time limit on visits, so Tessie quickly starts the conversation. Ethel, the boys heard I was visiting. They practically begged me to come along. Have they gotten my letters? Yes, I've read them to them over and over. The letters aren't enough, Ethel. Well, tell them mommy's okay. You're on death row. The lawyers still think we have a chance. Lawyers always say that. That's how they make their money. Oh, Ethel, give the government what they want. Admit that David was telling the truth with a rye smile, Ethel shakes her head. Oh, of course you're taking David's side. Oh, don't start that now. This is about saving your life. Well, he was always your favorite, wasn't he? But David didn't see me type those notes because it never happened. So why don't you go to Pennsylvania, tell him to stop lying? I have no idea which one of you is telling the truth, but right now it doesn't matter. If you won't admit to the typing, then give them something, something named contacts, anything. You must have seen or heard something. No, no, that's all, just no, that's all. So you won't betray your comrades? Ethel says nothing. Tessie throws up her hands. I have two little boys asking me whether their mother and father are coming home. I have neighbors staring at me in the street. Can you sit here protecting strangers? I don't expect you to understand. Well, good, because I don't. Maybe the prosecutors were right. Maybe you are cold. Maybe you do care more about Stalin than your own sons. The Rosenbergs remain in the death house at Sing Sing for Months, with their execution date repeatedly delayed while lawyers launch appeals on their behalf as the legal saga drags on. Public opinion on the case largely splits along political lines. Stonge anti-communists on the right are pleased with the court's original decision and approve of the sentences imposed. But on the left, many think the death penalty is an overreaction born of Cold War hysteria. And even some insist that Julius and Ethel are innocent of all charges that they are just peace activists, targeted because of their political beliefs and their Jewish ethnicity. Those that support the Rosenbergs are especially outraged by the death sentence for Ethel. Despite the prosecutors' claims that she was the ringleader, the evidence presented against threat trial was thin. And at first sentences carried out, she would become the first woman executed by the federal government since the Civil War. And all across the globe, there are marches and protests in support of the Rosenbergs. Public figures plead for clemency, including artist Pablo Picasso, Pope Pius XII, and renowned physicist Albert Einstein. Even officials within the FBI and the Justice Department privately expressed dismay at the thought of putting Ethel to death. They were hoping that the threat of execution would convince her and Julius to cooperate. I never intended for a young mother to actually be killed. But once started, the legal machinery has a momentum of its own. And in the Rosenbergs' appeal hearing in February 1952, their lawyer, Manny Block, tries to put a halt to it. He focuses on David Greenglass. It was his testimony that ultimately sealed Ethel's fate. If Block can persuade the court that David was an unreliable witness, then perhaps at least Ethel's sentence will be reconsidered. Block presents evidence that David lied to the FBI about stealing uranium from Los Alamos, the implication being that he was lying again when he accused his sister. Block also argues that David was just a low-level employee at Los Alamos. He had only a rudimentary understanding of the bomb's mechanics, so the sketches he made of the weapon were not as useful to the Soviets as they were portrayed a trial. But the government counters this with expert evidence, suggesting David's sketches did help Moscow, and in fact sped out the Soviet atomic program by several years. In the end, the court sides with the government, and the Rosenbergs' appeal is rejected. But still, all hope is not lost. The Rosenbergs' legal team continues to file habeas, petitions, sentence challenges, and post-trial motions. Eventually, in the summer of 1953, the case reaches the US Supreme Court. The justices are set to hand down their ruling on the morning of June 19, just 12 hours before the Rosenbergs are finally scheduled to be executed. And while the Supreme Court is meeting, across town, President Dwight Eisenhower assembles his cabinet at the White House. If the court rejects the Rosenbergs' case, the couple's last chance to avoid execution will be for the president himself to intervene. Just after 10 a.m., President Eisenhower takes his seat in the cabinet room, flanked by a dozen of the most senior men in his administration. Eisenhower explains that he has previously rejected pleas for clemency for the couple, preferring not to step in while the legal case was still pending. But now, the Rosenbergs are set to be executed in less than 24 hours. And with public interest in the case still so high, it's worth taking one final look. Eisenhower turns to his attorney general, Herbert Brownell, and asks for an update on what's happening with the Supreme Court. Brownell explains that the Rosenbergs were tried under the espionage act, and under that law, the judge could sentence them to either 30 years in prison or death. But the Rosenbergs are arguing that they should have been tried under the Atomic Energy Act instead. Under that law, only a jury can impose a death sentence. Brownell explains that this argument has already been rejected by the lower courts, and he'd be shocked if the Supreme Court overturned those rulings. Eisenhower leans forward in his chair. It sounds like the Supreme Court won't be making this decision for him, and the Rosenbergs fate will have to be decided at the White House. It won't rest on questions of procedural fairness or legal technicalities. The average American doesn't care about that. It's about the fundamentals of right and wrong. Brownell agrees, but offers something else to consider. Executing the Rosenbergs, especially Ethel, will make them martyrs in the eyes of some, and that may be just what the Soviet Union and communists inside the United States want most of all. Eisenhower nods, but he's still determined not to let outsiders dictate how the United States administers justice. He doesn't want to save Ethel just because she's a woman. And what he's seen in red, she's just as guilty as her husband and deserves the same fate. After all, sparing her life would carry risk, too, would send a dangerous signal to the Soviets. If they can see that America is soft on female spies, then they'll just recruit more women, confident that the US government will be too squimish to punish them properly. Still Eisenhower knows he has the lives of two human beings in his hands. He's been given the unique power to spare them with the stroke of his pen. He's made such decisions many times before. He was a general of the army in World War II, and he knows that his orders inevitably sent many men to their deaths. But it never becomes less of a burden, and he wants to make absolutely sure that he makes the right decision this time. So the president has one final question for his attorney general. He asks, "What will become of the Rosenbergs if he does grant them clemency?" Ron Ellis explains that their sentences will be reduced to 30 years in prison. And if the Rosenbergs show good behavior, they could be out in 15. 15 years doesn't seem all that long to Eisenhower. Rosenbergs are still young, and they would have decades left to enjoy their freedom. That's when the president thinks of his own son, who is currently off fighting communists in the Korean War. He imagines the Soviets dropping the very bomb that Rosenbergs helped them build on his son's combat unit. Julius and Ethel would probably defend that. Perhaps they'd even celebrate it. This is what ultimately tips the balance in Eisenhower's mind. The United States is effectively at war with the Soviet Union, and the Rosenbergs chose their side a long time ago. The president will not intervene, and American justice will have to take its course. And what if AI could recreate the voice of somebody you loved who died? What if it destroyed your reputation with words you never said? And what if you fell in love with something that was never human? I'm Mark Fanell, and in my brand new Audible original podcast, I'm traveling the globe to investigate the very personal ways. AI is already changing our relationships, our memories, and our sense of what is real. Unreal, listen now on Audible. And what if you fell in love
is something that was never human. I'm Mark Fonell, and in my brand new Audible original podcast, I'm traveling the globe to investigate the very personal ways. (gentle music) On the morning of June 19th, 1953, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg are told that their petition for clemency has been denied, and that the Supreme Court has rejected their final appeal. The executions are initially scheduled for 11 p.m. that night, but that is just after the Jewish Sabbath begins, and some members of the public are offended at the idea. So Irving Kaufman, the judge in the Rosenberg's trial, intervenes with prison officials. Kaufman is also Jewish, and he understands the concerns, but he doesn't delay the executions. Instead, he moves them up to 8 p.m. just before sundown. So with just hours left to live, Julius and Ethel are given a hurried last meal of hard boiled eggs in macaroni salad. Then they are allowed to meet with each other one final time. Ethel is led to a small meeting room inside the death house of Singsang Prison. A moment later, Julius arrives, company by a guard. Julius takes a seat next to Ethel with a couple separated by a wire mesh partition. She knows that this is the last time she will ever see her husband. She tries to keep her composure for the moment because they have one last task to take care of. Ethel has been allowed a notepad in pencil. She asks Julius to help her compose a final letter to their two sons. The boys are now six and 10. And as Ethel begins writing, Julius dictates a few halting words, telling his children that he knows they will grieve for their parents, but that they won't be grieving alone. The children still have a family who love them. They have supporters all around the world. Ethel continues the letter with words of her own, writing that she and Julius wish they could see the boys grow up, but she hopes that they will take solace in knowing that the couple's final thoughts are of them. When the letter is complete, Ethel sets the pencil and paper aside. Then she notices that Julius is sweating. She asks if he's nervous and Julius confesses he is and marvels at how stoic Ethel is in comparison. He asks if Ethel is having any second thoughts. Even at this late hour, the government would probably spare her life if she agreed to cooperate. He suggests maybe that's what's best for their sons and he won't think less of her. Ethel admits that she's considered it, but she always comes back to one fact. This case is about much more than just her family. The world is so full of injustice and it needs people willing to stand up for what's right. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for what you believe in and setting that example for their children will be the greatest gift they could ever give. Julius says he understands, but then he begins to cry. As he weeps on his bench, the guard softly announced that it's time for the Rosenbergs to head back to their cells. They rise from their seats, and Ethel feels a hand grabber by the arm and lead her away. At 7.20 p.m., Julius and Ethel are returned to their cells at opposite wings of the death house. They are there visited by the prison barber who shaves their heads to prepare them for the electrodes. As the minutes tick away, the Rosenbergs lawyer, Manny Block, makes one last desperate attempt to save their lives. He goes to the White House and tries to secure a meeting with President Eisenhower to beg him one last time for clemency. The White House is surrounded by protesters calling for the Rosenbergs release, and they cheer when they see Block arrive. But without an appointment, the police officers on duty don't let him in. There will be no reprieve for the Rosenbergs. Julius is to be executed first. Just before he leaves his cell for the final time, he's visited by the prison rabbi. The rabbi explains that the attorney general has offered to delay the execution of Julius has any more information to share when Julius declines the offer. He has nothing more to say. Julius is then shackled and led down the hall to the execution chamber. After he's strapped into the electric chair, electrodes are attached to his leg and the shave patches on his skull. A leather mask is placed over his face and then the executioner throws the switch. Julius is pronounced dead two minutes later. Next, it's Ethel's turn. The rabbi visits Ethel in her cell and tells her that Julius is dead. He then relays the same offer from the attorney general. But like her husband, Ethel has nothing to offer the government. Her final words to the rabbi are that she is innocent and ready to die. But Ethel's execution takes longer than Julius's. After three electric shocks, her heart is still beating and it takes another two jolts before she's finally pronounced dead at 8.16 p.m. Following the executions, some officials and the Department of Justice privately express regret. The Rosenbergs are the first people ever to be executed for espionage and peacetime. To the very last, the FBI had hoped threatening Ethel with death would scare her and Julius into cooperating. There were special phone lines installed in the death house. Stenographers were waiting to record anything they said, but they all went unused. The Rosenbergs called the government's bluff. Ethel's brother David Greenglass learned to the executions from inside his prison cell in Pennsylvania. His immediate feeling isn't sadness, but terror. He's the most notorious government witness in America. And David's fellow inmates consider him a rat. They've openly threatened to kill him if and when Ethel is executed. But that doesn't happen. Instead, in the months ahead, David becomes a political prop for anti-communist legislators in Washington, like the fire brand Senator Joseph McCarthy. McCarthy leaves a congressional committee that seeks to expose and purge alleged communists from the US government. And his chief counsel is the assistant prosecutor from the Rosenbergs case Roy Cohn. It's under Cohn's direction that the committee sends investigators to interview David Greenglass in prison. They hope he'll provide more dirt on communists in the US. David is happy to cooperate. Later, he's even brought to Washington to testify to the Senate. His appearance makes headlines. But it turns out David doesn't have much useful new information to share. He agreed to talk in hopes that he would shave some time off his sentence, but his applications for parole are repeatedly denied. It's only in late 1960 that he's released, having served under 10 years of his 15-year sentence. But even at that time, the Rosenberg case hadn't been forgotten. And as David is driven away from the prison by his lawyer, the car is surrounded by hecklers. They pound the windows and scream that David is a bomb and a dirty rat who should take his own life for what he did. But all David cares about is going home. Later that day, he's reunited with his wife Ruth, his 14-year-old son, and 10-year-old daughter. Since the trial, the family has changed its last name and moved away from Manhattan. Their new home is in Queens, where the Greenvases hope to escape harassment from those who still view them as the ultimate traitors. But even in the safety of his own living room, David can't escape all the questions about what he did. A few days after his release, David is on the couch watching TV. When his teenage son, Stevie, takes the seat next to him. Stevie grips the fold of newspaper. There's an article about you. Oh, I don't read that stuff anymore, do you? Stevie nods. David takes the paper from him. Oh, then never get the story right. Half the paper say I'm a red spine. The other half say I murdered my sister. So what's the real story? You never talked to your mother about this? I want to hear it from you. You know, I keep thinking of you as a little boy, but you're not, aren't you? David pauses from him. Well, I never wanted to testify against you on. I didn't want her or Julius to die. Goodness no. But the FBI had me. And they were coming after your mother next. What did mom do? Nothing. But that wasn't going to stop them. So it was Aunt Ethel and Uncle Julius, or you and mom. It was you and your sister, having at least one parent at home. That's what it was. But Aunt Ethel had kids too. And she made her own choice. David, take some breath. Stevie, if I hadn't cooperated, we were looking at 30 years. It was bad enough I had to miss your bar mitzvah. Now imagine both me and your mother walked up for your college graduation for your wedding, all of it. But why didn't Ethel and Julius cooperate? Because they were fanatics. They thought they were heroes. So was Aunt Ethel really the ringleader? Like the government said? Oh no, no. Julie was the one pushing things. Ethel-- Ethel, what? She knew enough. I don't understand. Why did she have to die? David pauses again. He tries to make some sense of what happened both for his son and for himself. Sometimes he starts something. And you think you know where it's going. You think you're in control. And other people get a hold of it. And suddenly you look around and nobody's steering anymore. And there's no way to stop it, even if you want it to. Talking about his sister is an easy for David Greenglass. He doesn't want Stevie to see him cry, so he excuses himself to the bathroom. There, he splashes water on his face and looks into the mirror. He knows that for the rest of his days, the world would think of him as the man who sent his sister and her husband to their deaths in order to save himself. But those people will never understand what really happened. The decision he had to make, he doesn't regret what he did. It was loyal to those who mattered to him the most. Ethel faced the same choice. And she'd made the same decision. Only for her, it wasn't her family that came first. By 1960, the red scare that formed the backdrop to the Rosenberg's trial
had begun to fade. Senator Joseph McCarthy's once popular anti-communist crusade was regarded as little more than a witch hunt, and the public had grown weary of the atmosphere of paranoia and suspicion he had promoted. Quietly, those caught up in the Manhattan Project espionage scandal were released from prison. The British physicist Claus Fuchs, the courier Harry Gold, and Julius Rosenberg's friend Morton Sobel, they all completed their sentences and were set free. Fuchs immediately emigrated to communist East Germany, gold returned to Philadelphia, where he became the chief pathologist at a local hospital. And Sobel became a fixture on the left wing speaker circuit, where for decades he insisted he was innocent and so were Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. But then, in 1995, portions of the Venona cables were released publicly for the first time. These decoded Soviet messages proved that Julius had indeed been a prolific spy, committing many acts of espionage for which he was never charged. Ethel, though, was mentioned only briefly in the cables, and she was never named in connection with passing atomic secrets to the Soviets the charge that led to her execution. In 1996, David Greenglass finally admitted to a journalist that he never saw Ethel type up his notes, that he had lied about it on the stand at her trial. By then, the world had changed beyond all recognition. The Soviet Union itself was gone, and the West stood triumphant. And the cause that the Rosenbergs had died for, the one they had chosen over their children, had crumbled into dust. From audible originals and airship, this is episode four of the Rosenbergs for American scandal. In our next episode, I speak with former CIA analyst David McCloskey about what being a spy is really like, what the movies get wrong, and whether intelligence gathered by people like the Rosenbergs actually changed the course of history. American scandal is only possible because of listeners like you, so thank you, and don't miss an episode. Be sure to follow American scandal on audible or wherever you get your podcasts. And audible subscribers can binge new seasons of American scandal early and add free right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple podcasts, and to find out more about me, including my other podcasts, my live show, the history tours I'm arranging, and all sorts of other things, go to historyishuman.com. That's historyishuman.com. If you'd like to learn more about the Rosenbergs, we recommend the books The Brother, the untold story of the Rosenberg case by Sam Roberts, and the Rosenberg file by Ronald Radosh and Joyce Milton. This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. American scandal is hosted, edited and executed produced by me Lindsay Graham for airship. This episode is written and researched by Corey Metcalfe, senior producer Andy Beckerman, managing producer Emily Burke, fact-checking by Alyssa Jung Perry, audio editing by Mohamed Chazip, music by Throne, sound design by Gabriel Gould, executive producer for airship is William Simpson, executive producer for Audible is Jenny Lauer Beckman, head of creative development at Audible Kate Naven, head of Audible originals North America, Marshal Louis, chief content officer Rachel Giazza, copyright 2026 by Audible originals LLC, sound recording copyright 2026 by Audible originals LLC.
Podcast Summary
Key Points:
The trial of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and Morton Sobel began in March 1951, charged with conspiracy to commit espionage for the Soviet Union.
Prosecutor Irving Saypol aimed to link the defendants to communism, despite defense objections, framing the case ideologically.
Key testimony came from David Greenglass, Ethel’s brother, who claimed the Rosenbergs recruited him and that Ethel typed secret notes—later admitted to be false.
The jury convicted all three; Judge Irving Kaufman sentenced Sobel to 30 years and the Rosenbergs to death, influenced by discussions with Roy Cohn.
Appeals failed, and despite global protests and President Eisenhower’s consideration, clemency was denied; the Rosenbergs were executed on June 19, 195
Afterward, David Greenglass faced public scorn, while later releases of Venona cables confirmed Julius’s espionage but cast doubt on Ethel’s role; Greenglass admitted lying about Ethel in 1996.
Summary:
This episode of American Scandal recounts the trial and execution of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and Morton Sobel for espionage during the Cold War. The prosecution, led by Irving Saypol, painted the defendants as communist traitors, despite the judge’s initial ruling that communism was not on trial. The case hinged on testimony from David Greenglass, Ethel’s brother, who claimed the couple recruited him and that Ethel typed secret atomic information—claims later shown to be partly fabricated.
The jury convicted all three, and Judge Kaufman, influenced by Roy Cohn, sentenced the Rosenbergs to death, while Sobel received 30 years. Appeals and clemency pleas, including from Albert Einstein and Pope Pius XII, failed; President Eisenhower declined to intervene, viewing the couple as unrepentant enemies. The Rosenbergs were executed in 1953, with Ethel’s death drawing particular controversy.
David Greenglass served time and faced public hatred, while later declassified Venona cables proved Julius’s guilt but suggested Ethel’s involvement was minimal. In 1996, Greenglass admitted lying about Ethel’s role. The episode highlights the hysteria of the Red Scare, the moral complexities of the case, and the lasting questions about justice, loyalty, and the cost of ideological conviction.
FAQs
American Scandal is a podcast that uses dramatizations based on true events to explore historical scandals, with dialogue and some elements invented but grounded in historical research.
Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were a married couple convicted of conspiracy to commit espionage for the Soviet Union in 1951, and they were executed in 1953.
They were charged with conspiracy to commit espionage, which required proving they agreed to carry out espionage and each took at least one overt act to advance that agreement.
Ethel's execution was controversial because the evidence against her was thin, she would be the first woman executed by the federal government since the Civil War, and many believed the death penalty was an overreaction driven by Cold War hysteria.
David Greenglass, Ethel's brother, later admitted in 1996 that he lied about seeing Ethel type up notes, but he maintained his testimony about Julius's involvement.
In 1995, portions of the Venona cables, decoded Soviet messages, were released publicly and proved that Julius had been a prolific spy, though Ethel was only briefly mentioned and never named in connection with atomic secrets.
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