In 1894, the Third Republic and tsarist Russia finalized a military alliance. In both countries, politicians and substantial segments of the public participated in elaborate performances of friendship celebrating this diplomatic milestone, which became known as the Dual Alliance. Appearing at a naval base to welcome a visiting French squadron, Tsar Alexander III shocked onlookers by standing at attention as an orchestra struck up "La Marseillaise," that hymn of revolution hitherto banned in Russia. 1 Across France, republican politicians organized lavish feasts at which they toasted the health of the autocrat and his empire. 2 Hundreds of thousands turned out to witness official exchanges, consumers eagerly acquired books, posters, and food products commemorating the alliance, and people from all walks of life wrote songs and poems celebrating the newfound amity between the two countries. One enterprising author even penned a "Franco-Russian Marseillaise," which saluted the autocracy as a steadfast friend of the republic. 3 The diplomatic historians who have long enjoyed a monopoly on the story of the Franco-Russian Alliance do not dwell on these striking attempts to reconcile the political cultures of Europe's first republic and its last autocracy. Their accounts trace how the two powers came to recognize their common interest in preventing German domination of the continent, and they reconstruct the secret exchanges between high-ranking military and diplomatic officials that ultimately produced an agreement. Focusing exclusively on the raisons d'état that motivated the rapprochement and the small circle of men who directed it, these studies suggest that diplomacy was driven by its own logic, protected from

Throughout the 19th century, a "Ukrainian question" haunted the Russian Empire. In the early 1800s, ethnic Ukrainian (or as official circles then called them, Little Russian) nobles came to see themselves as leaders of a historical nation whose origins they traced to Kievan Rus´ and the Cossack hetmanate. 1 By mid-century, Little Russian elites infused this historical sensibility with political content, initiating a Ukrainian "national awakening." In the 1840s, the Cyrillo-Methodian Society, a clandestine organization, called for Little Russians to reclaim the freedoms and equality of their Cossack ancestors by forming a federation of Slavic nations. By the 1860s-70s, populist activists known as khlopomany (roughly, fans of the peasantry) and members of cultural associations called Hromady worked to protect and promote folk traditions and the Ukrainian language. 2 As growing segments of Little Russian society I gratefully acknowledge the support of the International Research and Exchanges Board (IREX) and the Fulbright-Hays Program, which funded the research featured in this article. I would also like to express my appreciation to Laura Engelstein, Paul Bushkovitch, Timothy Snyder, the participants of Russian history reading groups at Columbia and Yale universities, and Kritika's editors and anonymous referees, whose comments and suggestions improved earlier drafts of this article. 1 This historical consciousness was both shaped and reflected by Istoriia rusov, an anonymous tract circulated widely among the Little Russian gentry in the early 19th century.

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This chapter treats Europe’s Russian colonies as a crucial locus of Jewish emancipation. It explores how professional revolutionaries—both Jews and non-Jews—made contact with Yiddish-speaking Jewish workers abroad, integrating the latter into the radical networks centered in the colonies. In the process, many Jewish proletarians became radicalized and more engaged in Russian politics than ever before. The exchanges between Russified intellectuals and working-class Jews in emigration created a new style of revolutionary politics from the bottom up that was sensitive to the special experiences and needs of Jewish workers yet sought to marshal these particularities for the cause of universal emancipation. The chapter closes with an exploration of how émigré networks transported the new political styles developed abroad back to Russia and examines the role that exile politics played in the creation of the Bund, an event usually understood as purely domestic in origin.