Church vs. Mosque

As a medieval historian I am sensitive, perhaps overly so, about the accusation that my subject doesn't matter - a point raised usually in the context that unless you're saving a life (read: training as a doctor) what you're doing doesn't really count.

This was, to some extent, disproved during my trip to the cathedral church of Cordoba, a vast renaissance edifice built in the centre of one of the most spectacular medieval mosques in Europe. This is widely recognised by historians and visitors as an appalling act of architectural vandalism and a miserable piece of symbolism, emphasising cultrual chauvanism and religious intolerance. Even Carlos V, the king who authorised the construction of the church and who was responsible for a huge amount of muscular church building in what was formerly Al Andalus, damned the creation after he saw its completion. Indeed for three centuries after Cordoba was taken by the Christians the mosque was maintained more or less intact.

The modern cathedal chapter, to judge from its visitor guide, which is given for free to every visitor to the church, does not share this opinion. Indeed the mosque, one of the most extraordinary pieces of architecture in the world and a rare survivor from the ninth century, merits only a cursory summary in the guide - two sides - while the cathedral, an impressive building for its domination and power but otherwise rather familiar from every other church in Andalucia, receives a wealth of attention - and three sides.

The leaflet goes further, however, in emphasising the destruction of the Muslims and the restoration of the Christians. Some of the quotes are quite extraordinary in their revision of history.

It is an historical fact that [the Visigothic church] was destroyed during the Islamic period in order to build the subsequent Mosque... the dominating Muslims proceeded to the demolition of the martyr's church

In fact after the Islamic conquest, the church was divided between Muslims and Christians. The Moors were reknown for a high degree of religious tolerance: Abd ar-Rahman I, the builder of the first mosque, allowed the Christians to rebuild their ruined churches. Evenually he purchased the Christian half of the church and rebuilt it as a mosque, which seems almost civilised compared to the wholesale destruction and rebuilding of mosques as churches across Andalucia after the reconquista.

[The consecration of the mosque as a church] was a matter of recuperating a sacred space that had suffered the imposition of a faith that was foreign and distant from the Christian experience... the reforms of the church were motivated by the need to restore the cult that had been interrupted by Islamic domination

This could hardly have been the case after almost five centuries of Muslim rule. It would be as reasonable to argue that Christianity was a foriegn experience for the pagans who had worshipped in Spain for millenia before Christ.

Indeed the building of the church could hardly be

a response to the desire of contemplating Christian symbols, or the inconvenience of celebrating the Liturgy amid a sea of columns

It is transparently an act of religious domination, a word often used in the guide to describe the Muslims but never the Christians, who merely 'restore' the true religion of Spain.

There is hardly any mention of the controversy of the new building, which is described as

an ingenious integration of the caliph structures within the gothic, renaissance, and baroque creations.

This guide probably reveals more of the insecurity and defensiveness of a church on the decline than the muscular military Christianity of the Reconquista but it is a sad example of the tensions that still exist between religions and the contortion of history to fit political aims. It also demonstrates an inability to understand the lessons of history for the confidence to engage with those of other beliefs.

The Greatest Building of All Time

A recent Guardian newspaper bit of puff asked columnists to write about the most formative cultural event they saw in the field they write about. So the pop critic picked seeing the Pixies in 1988, Adrian Searle chose an exhibition of Goya and Billington wrote about a performance of Pinter's No Man's Land.

So what would I pick, as an architectural historian?

There are a few great buildings I can think of visiting while a teenager, some overwhelming experiences and moments of inspiration, Durham Cathedral, the Houses of Parliament, St Peter's in Rome, and so on. But the moment at which my love of architecture first stirred properly was in the National Theatre in London when my Dad pointed out to me how the concrete had been cast in wooden moulds leaving an imprint of their grain which then decorated the walls. I found the idea fascinating and weird. These clear cut lines and curves, otherwise overwhelmingly a man-made creation but with a texture and softness from nature. The sober grey of the concrete suddenly become much less alien from the quiet browns of timber. I felt I could almost imagine the decisions being taken at the architects' meetings; for the first time I truly appreciated the level of detail and depth that architectural design could take.