prejudices but by self-aware groups that carefully adapted discourses about others to serve a host of diverse needs.13 In showing how religious violence could shape interfaith relations in often-constructive ways, moreover, Nirenberg suggests that we need to leave behind strict dichotomies like “tolerance” and “intolerance” when examining the medieval past. Other scholars, including Mark Meyerson, Barbara Fuchs, and Stuart Schwartz, have undermined the idea that conditions in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were wholly negative for members of religious minority groups.14 In essence, the new view is that there was no dramatic break, that conditions in the earlier period were not as idyllic as had been imagined and they were not so dire in later centuries.
In revising what was indeed a flawed view of Spain’s past, however, these authors may have gone too far in the other direction. They do not deny the significance of the Inquisition, the conquest of Granada, the expulsion of Jews and later Muslims from Iberia, or, in the New World, the harsh treatment of Native Americans. But they do contend that these innovations fail to reflect a broad social consensus about the place of non-Christians in Spanish society. Instead they cast them as imperfectly accepted policies whose impetus came from above. To some degree this is accurate. If there was a broad shift from a cultural paradigm of convivencia to one of a homogeneous Christian society, its progress was slow and uneven. Undoubtedly, many embraced the new emphasis on conformity and exclusion. It is equally certain, however, that others did not entirely or quickly reject their former neighbors, business partners, and friends. Ultimately, the crown cast out the Jews and later the Muslims, negating the potentially disruptive influence of religious minorities without the need to rely on the divided minds of its subjects.
During the period examined in this book, however, such sweeping and absolute solutions were not an option. The reigns of Juan II (1405–1454) and Enrique IV (1454–1474) were characterized by weak royal authority and unprecedented influence and power for the most prominent of the nobility. In frontier regions, local magnates such as Miguel Lucas in Jaén or Pedro Fajardo in Murcia acted with almost full autonomy, employing spectacles to build local consensus. Factional struggles among the nobility raised the stakes of these endeavors, leading to a golden age of sorts for public pageantry. After a decade-long period of civil war that led to Enrique’s deposition, the Catholic Monarchs, Isabel I and Fernando II, had to deal with lingering challenges to their authority even while embroiled in wars with Portugal and then Granada. This meant that they required broad public support for their policies, especially those policies that threatened to destroy traditional modes of life on the frontier. Their efforts at centralization drastically reduced the independence of individual nobles but could not establish complete royal control. Municipal councils retained a good bit of power but had to wield it under the eyes of representatives of the central government. They too used spectacles to enhance their positions. Politics, thus, were always local but never divorced from broader trends.
By viewing the transition from late medieval to early modern Castilian understandings of Christian society through the twin lenses of frontier and urban spectacle, this book shows how the conditions that prevailed in cities close to the Granadan border fostered a dissonant outlook toward religious minorities, which I describe as an “amiable enmity.” The resulting social anxieties left the populace vulnerable to attempts by elites to either deflect or exacerbate existing confessional tensions through public spectacle. Political transformation in the last decades of the fifteenth century—including the civil wars of Enrique’s reign, the final war with Granada, and Fernando and Isabel’s efforts to reestablish royal authority—brought frontier traditions and accommodations into dialogue with the rest of the realm and incited a broader reaction against religious minorities. But shifts in attitudes toward religious minorities were neither “top-down” nor “bottom-up.” Instead I show how they evolved through public spectacles whose content reflected the interplay of noble and common perspectives about Muslims, Jews, and converts.
The concept of “frontier,” so central to this book, deserves some explanation. For many modern Americans, the term conjures a variety of images. We speak of the frontiers of science and medicine, of new or unexpected frontiers in the farthest reaches of the globe, of space as the “final frontier.” The word itself implies action: frontiers are to be crossed, conquered, pushed back, and made civilized. To be on the frontier is to be forward thinking, a pioneer at the forefront of a great and progressive endeavor; by implication, the alternative is stagnation, decline, complacency. These frontiers of our popular imagination are not so much physical locations as they are processes by which the unknown is made known and wilderness tamed, an understanding that owes much to the work of Frederick Jackson Turner and his influential 1893 paper “The Significance of the Frontier in American History.”15 Turner never offered a precise definition of “frontier,” which he claimed was an “elastic” term. Rather, as the “outer edge of the wave—the meeting point between savagery and civilization,” it was a set of conditions that challenged settlers, forcing them to leave behind European norms and establish a distinctly American way of life.
For medieval Castilians, frontier, or frontera, meant something quite different. There was never an encounter between civilization and wilderness. Rather, frontiers were arenas for interaction, both peaceful and hostile, between different cultures. Contact between Christianity and Islam in Iberia dates to at least 711, when Muslim armies from North Africa crossed the Strait of Gibraltar and swiftly conquered much of the peninsula. A Christian enclave survived in the northwest, however, forming the nucleus of what would become the kingdom of Asturias. Although there was no grand strategy of “reconquest” at this time, Muslim power in that region was weak and the Christians expanded slowly and unevenly for the next several centuries as Asturias was succeeded by the kingdoms of Castile-León, Navarre, and Aragón across northern Iberia.16 Internal divisions and civil war, meanwhile, led to the breakup of the Caliphate of Córdoba and establishment of a number of small city-states or taifa kingdoms. Despite a number of setbacks, Christian rulers conquered nearly all these states between the eleventh and thirteenth centuries.
This process seemed to culminate in 1238, when Fernando III of Castile (the original owner of the famous sword) signed a treaty that made the Emirate of Granada, the last independent Muslim state, into a vassal. Fernando likely envisioned that the Christian reconquest of Iberia would soon be complete. In the preceding decades, after all, the Christians had won great victories and gained vast swaths of territory. The speedy dissolution of Granada was not to be, however. It instead remained independent for another 250 years and, as Map 1 shows, Christians coming to settle the newly conquered regions around Jaén, Córdoba, Murcia, and Seville found themselves in close proximity to Muslims, often trading together and sharing pastureland even while intermittent frontier warfare continued.
From the beginning, boundaries between the various Christian and Muslim states were porous; there were never effective barriers to contact. Even clearly delineated borderlines were vanishingly rare and it would be more accurate to speak of zones in which authorities held varying degrees of control. People dwelling near the Granadan frontier—on both sides—encountered challenges and opportunities that differed markedly from those in more central regions. They lived in constant fear of physical attack and developed protective strategies ranging from militia forces to extensive fortification to frontier “institutions” meant to curtail private violence and mitigate the effects of general hostilities.17 They were subject to influences from both their home culture and that of their neighbors. The dual dynamics of war and cultural exchange meant that the frontier was a place apart and was seen as such by contemporaries.
MAP 1. Fifteenth-century Iberia.
Although his arguments have been alternately adopted, adapted, and debunked in the century since they were first published, Turner’s central
