In the Baghdad of the Caliphs, timid efforts to dust off the historic center

In the Iraqi capital, once rocked by car bombs and suicide attacks on markets, urban planning and heritage preservation have long been absent from the state's priorities.

With the semblance of normality now enjoyed in the metropolis of nine million inhabitants - the second most populous of the Arab capitals - the situation has changed.

Braving the heatwave, around thirty students and amateur photographers are taking part in an urban stroll with the "young architects club".

"We want to show the public what Baghdad offers in terms of Islamic architecture, its value and its identity," one of the organizers, Abdallah Imad, a 23-year-old student at the University of Technology, told AFP.

On the program on the banks of the Tigris: an Abbasid palace more than 800 years old, its inner courtyard with brick facades decorated with arches and arabesques. But also Bab al-Wastani, "Central Gate" built around the 12th century, set with battlements and flanked by the remains of thick walls.

Under the Gate's imposing brick dome, the audience disperses among the vaulted niches, smartphones and cameras in hand. Professor Mouwafak al-Tai, 83, has just explained how the fortified enclosure of old Baghdad was built in 130 years.

"Several caliphs" have tried to do this, he said, quoting learnedly "Al-Mustazhir Billah, Al-Mustarshed Billah, Al-Nasir la-Din Allah".

"Hope and Change"

It has been barely a year since the young architects club began organizing conferences and urban walks.

"In the past, interest was limited, almost non-existent. Now it is increasing," confirms Abdallah. Because "stability has gradually settled in Baghdad. Before, there were security events," explains the student -- a modest allusion to decades of conflict.

Fatima al-Moqdad, a 28-year-old architect, confirms the enthusiasm, "a source of hope and future change concerning heritage and its preservation."

"When young people surf the Internet, they see how other nations take care of their heritage. They want and deserve the same," she continues.

And he added: "People are aware that there are places worth visiting. To go sightseeing you don't necessarily have to go abroad."

In the city centre on the Rusafah side - on the east bank of the river - buildings with brutalist architecture from the 1920s stand alongside ornate facades from the XNUMXs, decorated with flowery mouldings and sagging wrought iron balconies.

In the incessant cacophony, tuk-tuks, motorbikes and yellow taxis compete for passage with porters pushing their bales of goods on carts, laboriously making their way among the stalls of fish, sunglasses and counterfeit sneakers that have invaded the roadway.

"Sick" city center

There are 2.400 listed buildings here, but about 15 percent have been destroyed or damaged, says Baghdad City Hall.

Many properties belonged to Jewish families, or other Iraqi nationals driven out by the upheavals of history. Repeated wars have caused a brain drain and deprived the country of certain expertise, particularly in architectural restoration.

However, in partnership with an Association of Private Banks, the town hall has carried out two restoration projects: Al-Moutanabi Street, famous for its second-hand booksellers, and a perpendicular street, home to the former Seraglio.

A facelift, mainly consisting of redoing roads, sidewalks, lighting, and cleaning the facades.

Mohammed Alsoufi, an architect working on Rue du Sérail, praises "the aesthetic value of the buildings" made of brick, dating from the 19th century or the 1920s and 1930s.

The city hall acknowledges numerous challenges: difficulty in obtaining the green light from the original owners when they have left, lack of funding.

Despite everything, the next stage will concern Al-Rachid Street, inaugurated in 1916, battered by time - to the point of becoming "a sick, tired backbone" of the "historic center", asserts the communications manager of the Baghdad city hall, Mohammed Al-Rubaye.

"This is the soul of old Baghdad, its identity," the official laments. "Under this center is the Abbasid city."

The artery is invaded by warehouses, industrial machinery and motor oil shops. Flirting with gentrification, the authorities want to relegate these activities to the periphery.

"We are not telling people to leave. We are telling them to 'stay', but we are transforming wholesale warehouses into shops, cafes, cinemas, cultural and heritage sites," argues Mr Rubaye.