NY Times' Roberts contradicted his own earlier report on Rosenberg co-defendant

In a September 20 New York Times article, reporter Sam Roberts wrote that Morton Sobell, a co-defendant in the Rosenberg spying case, said in a recent interview with The New York Times that "Ethel [Rosenberg], in Mr. Sobell's words, 'knew what he [her husband, Julius Rosenberg] was doing' -- at the very least [emphasis added]." However, Roberts' suggestion that Sobell left open the possibility that Ethel Rosenberg had a greater role in the case than "kn[o]wing what" her husband "was doing" contradicted his previous reporting about what Sobell said about her role. In a September 11 Times article on the interview with Sobell, Roberts wrote that Sobell "concurred in what has become a consensus among historians: that Ethel Rosenberg, who was executed with her husband, was aware of Julius's espionage, but did not actively participate. 'She knew what he was doing,' he [Sobell] said, 'but what was she guilty of? Of being Julius's wife.' " Indeed, on September 12, The New York Times highlighted as its "Quotation of the Day" Sobell's statement that "[s]he knew what he was doing, but what was she guilty of? Of being Julius's wife" -- but then omitted it from Roberts' September 20 article about how Sobell's confession had "rattled seismically" the left's belief in the innocence of the Rosenbergs. Nothing in Roberts' September 11 report -- or September 14 and September 17 articles or September 12 and September 18 Times podcasts mentioning the Sobell interview -- suggested that Sobell said Ethel Rosenberg might have had greater involvement in the case or that she was guilty of any more than "being Julius's wife."

In his September 20 Week in Review article, Roberts wrote: "For more than 50 years, defending Julius and Ethel Rosenberg was an article of faith for most committed American leftists," later adding: "Now, that unshakeable faith has been rattled seismically" with Sobell "admit[ing] in an interview that he and Julius Rosenberg had indeed spied for the Soviet Union." Roberts also quoted historian and Hudson Institute adjunct senior fellow Ronald Radosh stating that "a pillar of the left-wing culture of grievance has been finally shattered." Roberts later wrote:

By Mr. Sobell's account, Julius was guilty of conspiracy to commit espionage (the charge he faced), although non-atomic military secrets he delivered were probably more valuable to the Russians than whatever he might have volunteered about atomic energy. And Ethel, in Mr. Sobell's words, "knew what he was doing" -- at the very least.

However, in his September 11 Times article, Roberts reported that Sobell had described her role as limited:

In the interview with The New York Times, Mr. Sobell, who lives in the Riverdale neighborhood of the Bronx, was asked whether, as an electrical engineer, he turned over military secrets to the Soviets during World War II when they were considered allies of the United States and were bearing the brunt of Nazi brutality. Was he, in fact, a spy?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, call it that," he replied. "I never thought of it as that in those terms."

Mr. Sobell also concurred in what has become a consensus among historians: that Ethel Rosenberg, who was executed with her husband, was aware of Julius's espionage, but did not actively participate. "She knew what he was doing," he said, "but what was she guilty of? Of being Julius's wife."

Mr. Sobell made his revelations on Thursday as the National Archives, in response to a lawsuit from the nonprofit National Security Archive, historians and journalists, released most of the grand jury testimony in the espionage conspiracy case against him and the Rosenbergs.

Coupled with some of that grand jury testimony, Mr. Sobell's admission bolsters what has become a widely held view among scholars: that Mr. Rosenberg was, indeed, guilty of spying, but that his wife was at most a bit player in the conspiracy and may have been framed by complicit prosecutors.

From Roberts' September 20 New York Times Week in Review article, titled "A Spy Confesses, and Still Some Weep for the Rosenbergs":

You could choose to ignore, or somehow explain away, the Hitler-Stalin pact, or be wedded to the original Port Huron Statement instead of the "compromised second draft," but if you seriously considered yourself fiercely loyal to the far left, you believed that the Rosenbergs were not guilty of espionage. At least you said you did.

For more than 50 years, defending Julius and Ethel Rosenberg was an article of faith for most committed American leftists. That the couple was framed -- by officials intent on stoking anti-Soviet fervor and embarrassed by counterespionage lapses that allowed Russian moles to infiltrate the government -- was at the core of a worldview of Communism, the Korean War and the ensuing cold war, and an enduring cultural divide stoked by McCarthyism.

Now, that unshakeable faith has been rattled seismically. Not for the first time, of course; in the 1990s, secret Soviet cables released by Washington affirmed the spy ring's existence. But this time, the bedrock under that worldview seemed to transmogrify into clay.

The rattler was Morton Sobell, 91, the case's only living defendant. He admitted in an interview that he and Julius Rosenberg had indeed spied for the Soviet Union. His admission prompted the Rosenbergs' sons, Michael and Robert Meeropol -- self-described magnets for global anguish over their parents' execution in 1953 -- to publicly accept, for the first time, that their father committed espionage. Ronald Radosh, co-author of "The Rosenberg File," a comprehensive account of the trial, declared that "a pillar of the left-wing culture of grievance has been finally shattered."

"The Rosenbergs were Soviet spies," he said in an op-ed article in The Los Angeles Times, and "it is time the ranks of the left acknowledge that the United States had (and has) real enemies and that finding and prosecuting them is not evidence of repression."

Well, not quite. Many who took up the execution of the Rosenbergs as a grievance are reluctant to let go of it. Mr. Sobell, in fact, was rebuffed by his own stepdaughter, Sydney Gurewitz Clemens, an author and teacher. She said his confession "complicated history and the personal histories of the many millions of people, all over the world, who gave time, energy, money and heart to the struggle to support his claims of innocence."

By Mr. Sobell's account, Julius was guilty of conspiracy to commit espionage (the charge he faced), although non-atomic military secrets he delivered were probably more valuable to the Russians than whatever he might have volunteered about atomic energy. And Ethel, in Mr. Sobell's words, "knew what he was doing" -- at the very least.

But Mr. Sobell's confession came with plenty of caveats: He claimed to know nothing about atomic espionage; if there was a secret to the atomic bomb, the Soviets already knew it; Ethel was railroaded by the government to leverage a confession from her husband; in Julius's case, prosecutors framed a guilty man; neither deserved to die in the electric chair.

Over the years, it became more difficult to find anyone on the left who would echo Julius and Ethel Rosenberg's last letter to their sons. "Always remember," they wrote, "that we were innocent." With simple innocence seemingly off the table, Mr. Sobell's caveats still keep the case alive.