How is it possible to resign yourself to watching Baghdad and Iraq pass from being the cradle of mankind to the grave of history, from the Mesopotamian dream watering its land to the conflicts of the last few decades, relentlessly burning it? How do artists of all backgrounds (Iraqis, but not only) set forth on the trails of a heritage that is, if not erased, at the very least riddled with missing spaces? In this tragic context, how are we to re-think the fate of the national heritage, when the museum-city has seen its vestiges first moved to European museums, and then reduced to ashes?