Aljafería

Start with the sound of gravel under your feet, and the quiet of the dry moat around you. The walls rise in warm, honey-coloured stone and brick. Round towers stand at regular intervals, like heavy stone posts. From the outside, this looks like a fortress built for war. But inside these walls is something very different. It is one of the most important Islamic palaces surviving in Europe, and it was built for pleasure.

The Aljafería was raised in the second half of the eleventh century. At that time, Zaragoza was the capital of an independent Muslim kingdom, known as a taifa. A taifa was one of the small states that formed after the great Caliphate of Córdoba broke apart. Here, the ruling family was the Banu Hud dynasty. Their most ambitious ruler, Abu Jafar Ahmad al-Muqtadir, built this palace. The name Aljafería comes from his own name, Abu Jafar.

He did not call it a fortress. According to written sources, he called it the Palace of Joy. That tells you what it was for. It was a place for poetry, music, gardens, and the display of a cultured court. The kings of these small taifa states competed with each other. They could not always win on the battlefield. So they competed in beauty, in learning, and in luxury. This palace was al-Muqtadir's statement to his rivals.

Before you go deeper, look for the tall, square tower on the north side. This is the Troubadour Tower, and it is older than the palace itself. It was a defensive tower, built well before al-Muqtadir's time. Here is the first surprise. Its name has nothing to do with the Middle Ages. It comes from a nineteenth-century Spanish play called The Troubadour, set partly in this tower. Giuseppe Verdi later turned that story into his opera Il Trovatore. So a piece of Italian opera now names a stone tower in Aragon.

Now walk into the Courtyard of Santa Isabel. This is the heart of the Islamic palace. A long rectangular space opens in front of you, with water and planting at its centre. At each short end, look at the arches. They are not simple curves. They cross, loop, and interlace with each other, like lace cut from plaster. Some arches have many small lobes, like the edge of a leaf. Light passes through these screens and falls in patterns on the floor.

This kind of decoration was meant to confuse the eye in a pleasant way. You look for where one arch ends and another begins, and you cannot quite find it. The surfaces carry carved plant forms and geometric patterns. Much of what you see today is careful restoration from the twentieth century. But original fragments survive, and the overall design follows the eleventh-century plan. Scholars often see this palace as a link between the art of Córdoba and the later Alhambra in Granada.

Near the courtyard, find the small private oratory. This was the ruler's personal prayer room, a tiny mosque. It has an octagonal shape, and in one wall is the mihrab. A mihrab is the niche that shows the direction of Mecca for prayer. The entrance arch of the mihrab is richly carved, and traces of colour still survive. Stand inside for a moment. It is an intimate space, made for one man and a few companions, not for crowds.

In 1118, the history of the building changed. Alfonso the First of Aragon, known as the Battler, took Zaragoza from Muslim rule. The Palace of Joy became the residence of the Christian kings of Aragon. They did not destroy it. Instead, they added to it, layer by layer. Christian chapels and rooms appeared beside the Islamic halls. Here is the second surprise. A queen who later became a saint was born in this palace. Elizabeth of Aragon, who became Queen of Portugal, was born here in the thirteenth century. The courtyard carries her name today.

Climb the stairs to the upper floor, to the palace of the Catholic Monarchs. Ferdinand and Isabella, the rulers who united much of Spain, built new rooms here in the late fifteenth century. Look up when you enter the Throne Room. The ceiling is a deep wooden coffered ceiling, divided into square panels. Each panel is carved and gilded, with a pinecone-like ornament hanging at its centre. The work was done in the Mudéjar style. Mudéjar is the name for art made in Christian Spain using Islamic techniques and craftsmen.

Not every chapter here is beautiful. In the late fifteenth century, part of the palace became a seat of the Spanish Inquisition. Prisoners were held in rooms within these walls. In the 1590s, the palace played a role in a political crisis. Antonio Pérez, a former secretary of King Philip the Second, had fled to Aragon. His case set off unrest in Zaragoza. After this, Philip the Second decided to turn the palace into a true military citadel.

That is why the outside looks the way it does today. Engineers added a star-shaped ring of bastions and the wide moat you crossed at the start. For centuries after, the Aljafería served as a barracks. Soldiers lived in rooms once built for poets and kings. Many decorations were damaged or covered over. In the twentieth century, a long restoration began. Architects and historians uncovered and rebuilt much of the Islamic and royal palace you see now.

Today, the building has a new life. Since the late 1980s, it has been the seat of the Cortes of Aragon, the regional parliament. Elected members debate laws in a modern chamber inside these old walls. The palace is also part of a UNESCO World Heritage listing for the Mudéjar architecture of Aragon. So this one site holds an Islamic court, a Christian royal palace, a prison, a fortress, a barracks, and a parliament.

Before you leave, go back to the courtyard and sit for a minute. Listen. You may hear water, a few voices, footsteps on stone. Look again at those crossing arches, and at the light moving across them. Then, as you walk out across the moat, turn and look at the walls one more time. From here, it is a fortress again. Only you now know about the Palace of Joy waiting quietly inside.