By Jordan Diamond
Towering cathedrals and skyscraping minarets shape the landscape of Andalusian cities, incorporating religious aesthetics into residential and industrial communities. Seville, home to the world’s largest gothic Cathedral, begs travelers to embrace the city’s Christian character. Notably missing from this architectural framework is the legacy of the city’s and region’s former Jewish inhabitants.

Catedral de Sevilla towers over the former Jewish ghetto.
Given the rich Jewish history we’ve studied in class, I was struck by the overwhelming – or rather, underwhelming – lack of Jewish homes, synagogues, or community spaces. Standing in the shadows of Seville’s Cathedral, within the boundaries of the city’s former Jewish ghetto. One had to wonder how the ghetto’s residents felt looking at the massive towers in front of them: did they know their vacated homes would one day serve as restaurants and hotels? I quickly realized that the Inquisition was more than an effort to weed out Jews, but an effort to erase Jewish culture.
Sites of Sephardic memory, then, are an intentional effort to reconcile Spain’s racist and antisemitic past. Throughout Andalusia, small gold circles reading “Seferad“ (Hebrew for Spain) marked sites of Jewish interest. Many of these sites, though, have been so reformed over time that they didn’t resemble their former Jewish natures anymore. Walking through the city’s commercial district (where I bought the cutest striped shirt), our group stumbled upon a Jewish history museum. Venturing away from itinerary, I was surprised to find relics of an erased Jewish past: Hanukkiot, letters, and biographies of notable Sephardic figures.

Joaquin Turnia y Areal’s painting depicts Jewish exile from Spain.
Lovingly deemed “the Second Jerusalem” by some Sephardic Jewish exiles, emigrants remembered and revered a land whose leaders that didn’t hold the same regard for them. Joaquin Turnia y Areal’s painting, seen in the museum and pictured below, depicts the Sephardic exile. I was reminded of the exile narrative in much of Jewish history, starting with the exile from Jerusalem.
This art, and other remnants of Jewish life throughout Andalusia, were deeply moving, and I’m grateful for the chance to experience this land, culture, and memory.
