About the Work
What I Believe is a polemical essay by Emma Goldman, presented as a direct and personal exposition of her anarchist philosophy. Written in response to widespread public misrepresentation of her ideas, the work is structured as a topical defense and explanation of her beliefs on property, government, militarism, free speech, the church, and marriage. The text is a first-person manifesto that combines political theory with social criticism, aiming to correct the caricature of Goldman as a dangerous revolutionary by articulating the rational and moral foundations of her anarchist convictions. The book is a work of advocacy, written in a combative yet reasoned tone, and is organized into distinct thematic sections that systematically address the major institutions and social arrangements Goldman opposes.
Context
The work emerges from a period of intense public hostility toward Goldman and her associates. She opens by acknowledging that her name has been subjected to “blood-curdling and incoherent stories” by “hack writers,” and that the public has come to view her with fear and revulsion, even imagining her as a witch who “manufactures bombs and gambles in crowned heads.” This climate of persecution provides the immediate impetus for the essay, as Goldman seeks to replace sensationalist fiction with a clear statement of her actual principles. The text also reflects the broader historical context of early twentieth-century America, a time of significant labor unrest, debates over free speech, the growth of militarism and imperialism, and the rise of socialist and anarchist movements. Goldman references contemporary events, such as the court-martial of Private William Buwalda, to illustrate the concrete consequences of the repressive forces she critiques. Her arguments are situated within a wider intellectual tradition, as she engages with thinkers like Herbert Spencer, Henrik Ibsen, and Leo Tolstoi, positioning her anarchism as a continuation of the historical struggle for human freedom against institutional authority.
Structure of the Book
The book is a continuous essay divided into six main sections, each addressing a specific topic. Following a general introduction in which Goldman establishes her purpose and defines the nature of her beliefs, the work proceeds through the following parts: “As to Property,” “As to Government,” “As to Militarism,” “As to Free Speech and Press,” “As to the Church,” and “As to Marriage and Love.” This structure allows Goldman to systematically dismantle the pillars of the existing social order—economic, political, military, legal, religious, and domestic—while simultaneously articulating the anarchist alternative. The progression moves from the broadest economic and political structures to more intimate personal and social institutions, culminating in a vision of human liberation grounded in love and free motherhood. Each section is self-contained but builds on the others, creating a comprehensive critique of the institutions that, in Goldman’s view, enslave humanity.
Detailed Section-by-Section Summary
Introduction and Definition of Beliefs
Goldman begins by addressing the grotesque public image of her as a witch and a bomb-maker, a caricature she attributes to the sensationalism of the press. She ironically notes that we no longer live in an age of witch-burning, though the public imagination has nonetheless cast her in that role. She thanks The World for providing a platform to clarify her actual beliefs. She then places her own persecution within a broader historical pattern, observing that every new idea in its early stages has been misrepresented and its adherents maligned. She references the early Christians thrown into the arena and the blood spilled for causes like “the black man’s right to his body” and “woman’s right to her soul” to illustrate that the history of progress is written in the blood of those who espouse unpopular causes. Given this history, she asks why her beliefs should be exempt from “a crown of thorns.”
Goldman then defines her creed, stating that “What I Believe” is “a process rather than a finality,” as finalities are for gods and governments, not the human intellect. While she concedes that Herbert Spencer’s formulation of liberty is important as a political basis of society, she argues that life is more than formulas. Citing Ibsen, she contends that in the battle for freedom, it is the struggle for liberty, not its attainment, that develops the strongest and sturdiest human character. She describes Anarchism as a process marching with “sombre steps” and as “a conspicuous protest of the most militant type”—absolutely uncompromising and able to withstand criticism from those who are “the last trumpets of a decaying age.” Anarchists, she insists, are not passive spectators; they have positive notions as to aims and methods. With this foundation, she adopts a topical mode of treatment.
I. As to Property
Goldman defines “Property” as “dominion over things and denial to others of their use.” She acknowledges that while production was not equal to normal demand, institutional property may have had a raison d’être. However, she argues that the productivity of labor has increased so tremendously in recent decades as to exceed normal demand a hundred-fold, making property a hindrance and a “deadly barrier” to progress. Private dominion condemns millions to be “living corpses,” human machines who pile up wealth for others and pay with a gray, wretched existence. She believes there can be no real social wealth so long as it rests on human lives. She identifies the fundamental causes of this condition as: first, man must sell his labor; and second, his inclination and judgment are subordinated to a master’s will. Anarchism alone can end this, she argues, because it insists that man’s development, physical well-being, latent qualities, and innate disposition must determine the character and conditions of his work, and that one’s physical and mental appreciations and soul cravings decide how much he consumes. This is possible only in a society based on voluntary co-operation of productive groups, communities, and societies loosely federated, eventually developing into “free communism” actuated by solidarity of interests. She concludes that there can be no freedom while mercenary and commercial considerations determine personal conduct.
II. As to Government
Goldman argues that government, organized authority, or the State is necessary only to maintain or protect property and monopoly, and has proven efficient only in that function. As a promoter of liberty, well-being, and social harmony—which alone constitute real order—government stands condemned by all great men. She believes, with fellow-Anarchists, that statutory regulations, legislative enactments, and constitutional provisions are invasive. They never induced man to do what he would not do by intellect or temperament, nor prevented what he was impelled to do. She cites Millet’s “The Man with the Hoe,” Meunier’s masterpieces of miners, Gorki’s descriptions of the underworld, and Ibsen’s psychological analysis as things government could never have induced—just as the spirit that impels a man to save a drowning child or a crippled woman from a burning building is never called into operation by statutes or the policeman’s club. She knows that whatever is fine and beautiful in the human expresses itself in spite of government, not because of it. Anarchists are therefore justified in assuming that Anarchism—the absence of government—will insure the widest scope for unhampered human development. As to the argument that government checks crime, she notes that even lawmakers no longer believe it. The country spends millions maintaining “criminals” behind bars, yet crime increases—not from insufficiency of laws. Ninety per cent of all crimes are property crimes, rooted in economic iniquities; so long as these continue, converting every lamp-post into a gibbet would have no effect. Crimes from heredity cannot be cured by law; they can only be treated by the best modern medical methods and by a deeper sense of fellowship, kindness, and understanding.
III. As to Militarism
Goldman states she would not treat militarism separately since it belongs to the paraphernalia of government, except that those most vigorously opposed to her beliefs—on the ground that those beliefs stand for force—are themselves advocates of militarism. She asserts that Anarchists are the only true advocates of peace and the only people who call a halt to the growing tendency of militarism, which is fast making of this “erstwhile free country” an imperialistic and despotic power. The military spirit is described as the most merciless, heartless, and brutal in existence, fostering an institution with no pretense of justification. Quoting Tolstoi, she says the soldier is a professional man-killer: he does not kill for love of it like a savage, or in passion like a homicide, but is a cold-blooded, mechanical, obedient tool of military superiors, ready to cut throats or scuttle a ship at command without knowing or caring why.
She cites Gen. Funston as support, quoting his communication to the New York Evening Post regarding the case of Private William Buwalda, which stirred the Northwest. Funston stated: “The first duty of an officer or enlisted man is unquestioning obedience and loyalty to the government to which he has sworn allegiance; it makes no difference whether he approves of that government or not.” Goldman asks how to harmonize “unquestioning obedience” with “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” The deadly power of militarism was demonstrated by the court-martial of William Buwalda, of San Francisco, Company A, Engineers, sentenced to five years in military prison. Buwalda had fifteen years of continuous service; his “character and conduct were unimpeachable,” per Gen. Funston, who reduced the sentence to three years. Yet Buwalda was thrown out of the army, dishonored, robbed of pension chances, and sent to prison. His crime: he attended a public meeting and, after the lecture, shook hands with the speaker. Funston called this a “great military offense, infinitely worse than desertion,” and in a public statement in Portland, Ore., said Buwalda’s was “a serious crime, equal to treason.” The meeting had been arranged by Anarchists. Funston said that had Socialists issued the call, there would be no objection to Buwalda’s presence; Funston said he would not hesitate to attend a Socialist meeting himself. But attending an Anarchist meeting with Emma Goldman as speaker was “treasonable.” For this crime, a free-born American citizen with fifteen years of unimpeachable service languishes in prison, dishonored, disgraced, robbed of livelihood.
Goldman asks if anything is more destructive of the true genius of liberty than the spirit of unquestioning obedience, and whether it was for this that Americans sacrificed four hundred million dollars and their hearts’ blood in recent years. She believes militarism—a standing army and navy in any country—indicates decay of liberty and destruction of all that is best and finest in the nation. The clamor for more battleships and increased army to guarantee peace is as absurd as arguing the peaceful man is he who goes well armed. Peace pretenders oppose Anarchism for supposedly teaching violence, yet would be delighted at America hurling dynamite bombs from flying machines upon defenseless enemies. She believes militarism will cease when liberty-loving spirits say to their masters: “Go and do your own killing. We have sacrificed ourselves and our loved ones long enough fighting your battles. In return you have made parasites and criminals of us in times of peace and brutalized us in times of war. You have separated us from our brothers and have made of the world a human slaughterhouse. No, we will not do your killing or fight for the country that you have stolen from us.” She believes with all her heart that human brotherhood and solidarity will clear the horizon from the terrible red streak of war and destruction.
IV. As to Free Speech and Press
Goldman notes that the Buwalda case is one phase of the larger question of free speech, free press, and the right of free assembly. Many good people imagine free speech or press can be exercised properly within constitutional guarantees; she calls this the only excuse for the terrible apathy toward the onslaught on free speech and press witnessed in this county within the last few months. She believes free speech and press mean she may say and write what she pleases. This right, regulated by constitutional provisions, legislative enactments, Postmaster General decisions, or the policeman’s club, becomes a farce. She is aware she will be warned of consequences if chains are removed from speech and press, but she believes the cure for consequences of unlimited expression is to allow more expression. Mental shackles have never stemmed the tide of progress, whereas premature social explosions have often been brought about through a wave of repression.
She asks if governors will never learn that England, Holland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, with the largest freedom of expression, have been freest from “consequences,” whereas Russia, Spain, Italy, France, and even America have raised these “consequences” to the most pressing political factor. Ours is supposed to be a country ruled by the majority, yet every policeman not vested with power by the majority can break up a meeting, drag the lecturer off the platform, and club the audience out of the hall in true Russian fashion. The Postmaster General, not an elective officer, can suppress publications and confiscate mail; from his decision there is no more appeal than from the Russian Czar. She believes we need a new Declaration of Independence.
V. As to the Church
Goldman opens this section by referencing a recent convention of “the political remnants of a once revolutionary idea,” where it was voted that religion and vote-getting are unrelated. She questions why they should be related, arguing that if a man delegates care of his soul to the devil, he might as consistently delegate care of his rights to a politician. The text states that the idea of religion being a private affair was settled long ago by the “Bis-Marxian Socialists of Germany.” It criticizes “American Marxians” as “poor of blood and originality,” claiming they must go to Germany for wisdom. This German wisdom is described as a “capital whip” used to lash millions of people into a disciplined army of Socialism, and the author suggests it might do the same in America. She sarcastically pleads not to offend respectability or hurt religious feelings.
Goldman defines religion as “a superstition that originated in man’s mental inability to solve natural phenomena.” The Church is defined as “an organized institution that has always been a stumbling block to progress.” “Organized churchism” is accused of stripping religion of its naïveté and primitiveness, turning it into “a nightmare that oppresses the human soul and holds the mind in bondage.” The Church is called “The Dominion of Darkness,” a phrase attributed to “the last true Christian, Leo Tolstoi.” The Church is called a foe of human development and free thought, with no place in the life of a truly free people.
VI. As to Marriage and Love
Goldman states that marriage and love are probably the most tabooed subjects in this country, and that discussing them scandalizes cherished propriety. Ignorance prevails on these questions; only open, frank, intelligent discussion will purify the air of “hysterical, sentimental rubbish” shrouding these vital subjects. Marriage and love are declared not synonymous; they are often antagonistic. Some marriages are actuated by love, but the “narrow, material confines of marriage” crush the “tender flower of affection.” Marriage is an institution that furnishes the State and Church with tremendous revenue and a means of prying into a phase of life considered a most sacred private affair. Love is described as the most powerful factor of human relationship, which has defied all man-made laws and broken through conventions in Church and morality.
Marriage is often a purely economic arrangement: for the woman, a life-long life insurance policy; for the man, a perpetuator of his kind or a pretty toy. Marriage, or training for it, prepares the woman for a life of a parasite, a dependent, helpless servant, while giving the man a “chattel mortgage over a human life.” She asks how such a condition can have anything in common with love, which would forego wealth and power for its own world of “untrammeled human expression.” The text states this is not an age of romanticism (citing Romeo and Juliet, Faust and Marguerite, moonlight ecstasies, flowers, songs) but a practical age where first consideration is income. This is lamented: “No race can develop without the love element.”
Goldman poses a question: if two people worship at the shrine of love, what becomes of the “golden calf,” marriage? The common answer is that marriage is the only security for woman, child, family, and State. She counters that marriage is no security to love; without love no true home can exist, no child should be born, and no true woman can be related to a man. The fear that love is not sufficient material safety for the child is called out of date. She predicts that when woman signs her own emancipation, her first declaration of independence will be admiring and loving a man for the qualities of his heart and mind, not the quantities in his pocket. The second declaration will be her right to follow that love without let or hindrance from the outside world. The third and most important declaration will be “the absolute right to free motherhood.” The passage concludes that in such a mother and an equally free father rests the safety of the child; they have the strength, sturdiness, and harmony to create an atmosphere wherein the human plant can grow into an exquisite flower.
Main Arguments
Goldman’s central argument is that Anarchism is a positive and constructive philosophy, not a doctrine of violence and chaos. She contends that the existing social order, built on the pillars of private property, government, militarism, censorship, organized religion, and legal marriage, is fundamentally oppressive and stifles human development. Her critique of property holds that the immense productivity of modern labor has made institutional property obsolete and harmful, as it condemns the majority to wage slavery and prevents the free distribution of wealth. She argues that government exists solely to protect property and monopoly, and that it has never fostered liberty or social harmony; all that is fine and beautiful in human expression occurs in spite of government, not because of it. She extends this critique to militarism, arguing that the military spirit of “unquestioning obedience” is the antithesis of liberty, and she uses the Buwalda case to demonstrate the brutal consequences of this spirit. On free speech, she argues that true freedom of expression cannot be regulated by constitutional provisions or police power; the cure for the consequences of free expression is more expression, not less. She dismisses the Church as a superstitious institution that has always been a stumbling block to progress and a foe of free thought. Finally, she argues that marriage is an economic and legal arrangement that is antithetical to love, and that true human emancipation requires the freedom to love and the right to free motherhood.
Key Concepts
The book is built around several key concepts. Anarchism is defined not as a final state but as a “process” and a “conspicuous protest of the most militant type,” characterized by its uncompromising insistence on human freedom. Free communism is the envisioned society based on voluntary co-operation of productive groups, communities, and societies loosely federated, actuated by solidarity of interests. Property is understood as dominion over things and denial to others of their use, a concept Goldman argues is now a “deadly barrier” to progress. Government is defined as organized authority necessary only to maintain property and monopoly. Unquestioning obedience is identified as the destructive spirit of militarism, contrasted with the true genius of liberty. Free speech and press are defined as the absolute right to say and write what one pleases, unregulated by any authority. Religion is defined as a superstition originating in man’s mental inability to solve natural phenomena, while the Church is an organized institution that is a stumbling block to progress. Marriage is presented as an economic arrangement and a “chattel mortgage over a human life,” fundamentally antagonistic to love, which is the most powerful factor of human relationship. Free motherhood is the ultimate declaration of woman’s emancipation, the absolute right to bear children freely.
Themes
The overarching theme of the work is the struggle for individual liberty against the oppressive forces of institutional authority. Goldman presents a comprehensive critique of the State, the Church, and the economic system as interlocking structures that enslave humanity. A recurring theme is the hypocrisy of a society that claims to value freedom while practicing repression, as seen in her contrast between America’s self-image as a free country and its actual practices of censorship, militarism, and economic exploitation. The book also explores the theme of progress, which Goldman frames as a bloody history of persecuted idealists whose ideas eventually triumph. Another significant theme is the relationship between the personal and the political, particularly in her discussion of marriage and love, where she argues that the most intimate aspects of human life are corrupted by institutional arrangements. The text also carries a theme of militant idealism, presenting Anarchism as a moral and spiritual force that will ultimately lead to human brotherhood and solidarity. The work can be read as a spiritual autobiography in the sense that it is a declaration of personal faith, a statement of the beliefs that define Goldman’s life and purpose, grounded in a Romantic faith in human nature’s innate goodness and capacity for beauty when freed from institutional shackles.
The Author’s Conclusions
Goldman concludes that the existing institutions of property, government, militarism, censorship, the Church, and marriage are all fundamentally incompatible with human freedom and development. She concludes that Anarchism, as the absence of government and the free association of productive groups, is the only system that can insure the widest scope for unhampered human development. She concludes that militarism must be rejected by liberty-loving individuals who refuse to do the killing of their masters, and that human brotherhood and solidarity will ultimately prevail over war. She concludes that free speech and press are absolute rights that cannot be regulated without becoming a farce, and that repression only leads to premature social explosions. She concludes that the Church is a “Dominion of Darkness” with no place in the life of a free people. Finally, she concludes that the emancipation of woman, signified by her right to love freely and to free motherhood, is essential for the safety of the child and the future of the human race. Her final vision is one of a free mother and an equally free father creating an atmosphere wherein the human plant can grow into an exquisite flower, a conclusion that grounds her revolutionary politics in a deeply personal and humanistic vision of liberation.
Significance
What I Believe is significant as a primary document of American anarchist thought, offering a clear and articulate statement of Emma Goldman’s philosophy from her own pen. It serves as a corrective to the sensationalized public image of her as a violent bomb-throwing radical, revealing instead a thinker deeply engaged with questions of social justice, individual freedom, and human potential. The work is a powerful example of early twentieth-century radical polemic, capturing the tensions of an era marked by labor struggles, debates over free speech, and the rise of American imperialism. Its systematic critique of the State, the Church, and the institution of marriage anticipates later feminist and libertarian thought. The book’s significance also lies in its impassioned defense of absolute free speech and its insistence that true liberty cannot be regulated or compromised. As a testament to the power of ideas to challenge entrenched authority, What I Believe remains a vital and provocative statement of anarchist principles and a compelling call for a society based on voluntary cooperation, love, and human solidarity.
