SPAIN HAS ALWAYS BEEN a place of stories. In fact, the first great novel, Don Quixote, came from Spain. Medieval Spaniards were enchanted by tales of knights and ladies, and even the kings and nobles loved the rather far-fetched story of their origin from the Greek demigod Hercules. But sometimes this fondness for storytelling had a dangerous side.
In the years leading up to what history books call the Golden Age of Spain, the country was divided into three separate kingdoms: Christian Castile in the center, Christian Aragon to the east, and the small but important Granada, ruled by the Muslim dynasty of the Nazrids, at the southern tip. On October 19, 1469, Prince Fernando, heir to the throne of Aragon, married Princess Isabella, heiress to the throne of Castile. The first stone on the road to the great dream of “One Spain” had been set.
But Spain had already had a Golden Age. From 711 A.D. until the twelfth century, it was known as the kingdom of al-Andalus, ruled by Muslims who had come from Damascus in Syria. The Muslims’ holy book, the Koran, taught them to respect other religions—particularly those of the other “peoples of the book,” Christians and Jews. The conquered Christians of al-Andalus were allowed to practice their own faith and speak their own language; so, too, were the Jews, who had been settled in Spain since Roman times. Yet many chose to learn Arabic, and a great society of culture, learning, and coexistence (often called convivencia) flourished. For more than a hundred years, the Spanish city of Cordoba was the seat of the caliphs— the supreme leaders of the Muslim world. Because of them, important books on medicine, science, and philosophy were brought to Europe. Cordoba’s libraries grew to contain nearly half a million volumes.
With the gradual Christian “reconquest” of Spain, Muslims and Jews were at first treated with similar respect. The three cultures continued to live side by side. Muslims and Jews were still relatively free to practice their faiths. But they were subject to heavy taxes unless they converted to Christianity. Both Mudejares—Muslims living under Christian rule—and Jews were encouraged, and often forced, to remain in sections of cities enclosed by walls and guarded gates. New laws barred them from certain kinds of work, from marrying or employing Christians, from wearing fine clothes, and even from leaving their quarters on Christian holy days. They had to wear badges—in Castile, yellow for Jews, red for Muslims—so Christians would know “what” they were and be warned. The Crown and the Church claimed that Jews were constantly trying to convert Christians to Judaism, though there is no historical evidence to support this. In 1483, Jews were expelled from southern Spain.
Cordoba became a place of fear. It was now home to large populations of conversos: Jews who had converted to Christianity. Many had been forced to convert against their will—some upon pain of death. Others had chosen to convert for their own reasons, especially to stay in Spain. Spain—called Sepharhad in Ladino, the Spanish-Jewish language—was their new Jerusalem, their beloved home.
Encouraged by the Church, people began to turn against the conversos. A wild story spread that a converso girl had poured urine from a window onto an image of the Holy Mary in the street below. In supposed retaliation, hundreds of conversos were massacred. After that, the lives of the remaining Spanish conversos got much worse. They faced discrimination in their businesses and professions, in church, and in their everyday lives. They were often harassed or assaulted in the street.
Increasingly, the remaining Jews, conversos, and Mudejares were considered non-Spanish. The Crown and the Church, once seemingly motivated by a genuine desire to spread the Christian faith, now became obsessed with what they called “pure” Christian blood.
In 1481, the Holy Office of the Spanish Inquisition was born. Its purpose? To ferret out heresy against the Catholic faith. (Heresy is defined as a practice, belief, or even an opinion that doesn’t conform to orthodox teachings.) Its practice? To arrest, torture, and punish every Spanish Christian even suspected of such heresy. It seemed the converted Jews had fallen into a trap. Now that they were legally Christians, the Inquisition could try them for not being Christian enough.
“Edicts of Faith” encouraged people to accuse their friends, relatives, and neighbors of heresy. “Familiaris” were chosen from the populace and appointed to spy and report on their fellow citizens. “Transgressions” as simple as refusing to eat pork (a Jewish dietary restriction) could get a person—and especially a converso—arrested. Thousands of people were burned at the stake at huge spectacles called autos-da-fé. And the Office’s judges did not usually require proof. Those who held grudges could denounce their enemies for offenses that may never have happened.
So far, Mudejar subjects had not suffered the same per-secutions, perhaps because there were powerful Muslim kingdoms to the south and east that might rush to the Spanish Muslims’ defense. But the Inquisition, which confiscated the wealth of its prisoners, had made Castile rich. It could now afford to attack Muslim Granada, the third kingdom of the Spanish peninsula. It was the final piece of the puzzle in Isabella and Fernando’s quest for a unified Christian Spain under their rule. The “Spain of the three cultures” was over. The war of the Holy Reconquest, as they called it, held the day.