It was fitting that the emblem of Granada should be the pomegranate, declared her great historian Francisco Bermúdez de Pedraza. For like the seeds of that fruit so tightly packed and arranged that ‘one might say they embrace one another in unbreakable ties of solidarity’, the citizens formed a real community. ‘For it is a close bond of love that comes from breathing the same air, eating the same fruits, drinking at the same fountains, learning at the same school, becoming skilled in the same crafts and exercises.’ And he went on: ‘The temples, theatres, neighbourhoods, squares, promenades … mould the hearts of the citizens with a special love, which we call common friendship. If this were to fail, as Cicero says, it would be like the sun failing the earth.’ The comment, unconsciously perhaps, evoked memories of a recent turbulent past.

The kingdom of Granada, last fragment of an Islamic civilisation which had once held sway throughout most of the Iberian Peninsula, had taken shape between 1232 and 1246 when the Nasrid dynasty, powerless to halt the overthrow of Al-Andalus by the Christian armies advancing on Seville and Córdoba, threw in their lot with the conquerors. In return for helping the latter take Seville, they were left to rule over Granada as kings or emirs, with the status of vassals paying tribute to the Castilian Crown.