several Jewish-specific cases, but they were all politically (not ethnically) defined. Iudit Roziner-Rabinovich, for example, was arrested during the sweep of “Palestinians,” but her interrogator (himself Jewish) was interested in Zionist organizations, not nationality. Samuil Agursky, the great crusader against Zionism, Moyshe Litvakov, his political enemy and fellow leader of the Party’s Jewish Section, and Izi Kharik, the Yiddish “proletarian” writer and the author of the poem about the exodus to Moscow, were all arrested as part of the attack against former Bundists (real or imaginary). At the same time, similar campaigns were being waged against the former members of all the other non-Bolshevik parties, including the Socialist Revolutionaries, the Mensheviks, the Ukrainian Borotbists, the Azerbaidjani Mussavatists, and the Armenian Dashnaks, among others. And while Jewish national districts and schools were closed down, all other national districts and schools were closed down too, many of them more brutally and abruptly than the Jewish ones (“national” meant an ethnically defined unit within a different ethnically defined unit, such as Jewish or Polish districts and schools in Ukraine). 97 Indeed, Jews were the only large Soviet nationality without its own “native” territory that was not targeted for a purge during the Great Terror. Ever since the revolution, the regime had been promoting ethnic particularism in general and diaspora communities (those with “national homes” across the border) in particular. One of the reasons for the latter policy was to offer the neighboring peoples clear and tangible proof of Soviet superiority. A special Politburo decree of 1925 had mandated that the national minorities of the Soviet border regions receive a particularly generous portion of national schools, national territories, native-language publications, and ethnic hiring quotas. The idea behind the “Piedmont Principle” (as Terry Martin calls it) was to instruct, inspire, and influence the peoples of neighboring countries—and perhaps offer them an alternative home. Starting in the mid-1930s, however, as the fear of contagion grew and the nature of the enemy seemed harder to determine, it became painfully obvious to the professionally paranoid that the opposite of inspirational influence was hostile penetration, and that cross-border kinship meant that bad Soviets, and not just good foreigners, might seek an alternative home. Between 1935 and 1938, the Chinese, Estonians, Finns, Germans, Iranians, Koreans, Kurds, Latvians, and Poles were all forcibly deported from border regions on the theory that their ethnic ties to neighboring non-Soviets made them uniquely susceptible to alien penetration. And in 1937–38, all diaspora nationalities of the Soviet Union became the subject of special “mass operations” involving quotas of arrests and executions. Twenty-one percent of all those arrested on political