
 By Nick Meo in Basra
Strolling with his wife on Basra's corniche as a refreshing breeze blew in    from the Shatt al-Arab waterway, Aladeen Hassan observed that a year ago    enjoying this simple pleasure would have been to invite death.  
  "If I had come here with my wife then we would have been killed or    abducted for sure," Mr Hassan said with a grin. "But now we come    here all the time and in the afternoon it is so crowded you cannot find a    seat in the cafes. 
  "Basra has been reborn. The militias have gone, the people are happy, and    we have our city back again." 
  For three years until last March, gangs terrorised Iraq's second city and    killed British soldiers in its streets. Criminals looted and kidnapped while    the religious zealots of the Mahdi Army enforced a harsh Islamic rule. The    streets were so dangerous that Mr Hassan's wife, Thana, spent nearly six    years locked in their tiny flat. 
  "It was like being a prisoner," she said. She would occasionally    dart out to a shop, heavily veiled for protection in case she ran into    militiamen. 
  Now Mrs Hassan dares to go out in public wearing makeup, although her modest    black abaya still covers her hair and she is careful to wear black gloves. 
  Elsewhere on the corniche, the walkway along the Shatt al-Arab that is the    heart of Basra's social life, courting couples flirt discreetly. Some even    dare to hold hands as they watch boats, or come at dusk to gaze romantically    at the sun setting behind the date palm groves on the far bank of the    waterway. 
  The mood has lifted business too in the city, raising hopes of reconstruction    and an economic takeoff financed by Iraqi oil. It has even fuelled a    property boom, perhaps the only one in the world right now, with top-end    house prices almost doubling over the last year.  
  British troops still patrol the city from time to time but security is now in    the hands of thousands of Iraqi soldiers and police who have flooded Basra's    filthy streets ahead of provincial elections next weekend. 
  Security may be better in the sprawling city of more than one million, but    stagnant pools remain in the rutted streets and piles of rubbish are strewn    in bazzars, slums and even the best residential areas. 
  Adding to the chaos, walls, lamp-posts and vehicles are plastered with posters    of the candidates. Most are well-fed men in suits, not the scowling    fundamentalists in turbans whose stars are waning. A quarter of the    candidates are women. Hopes are high that the militia-linked candidates will    get nowhere and instead a new and energetic set of politicians will be voted    in to run the city. 
  If that happens and violence is minimal the remaining Iraqi businessmen and    professionals who fled abroad when the anarchy was at its worst will return.    A peaceful election will also give a green light to hundreds of foreign    companies who are ready to move in to the oil-rich province. 
  The transformation of Basra after almost three decades on the frontline of a    series of wars is now a real possibility. 
  Many Basrans can still hardly believe that their long nightmare could really    be over.  
  Last January Sammi Alta'ee, a 27-year-old translator for British troops, had    decided that his only chance of a future was to somehow escape Iraq. 
  "I'd had enough," he said. "The police were being bullied by    the militias, who were so violent and had better weapons than the police. I    thought at that time that there was no hope for Iraq and my friends all    thought the same. 
  "Yet now the violence seems to be over and we are seeing the beginning of    real reconstruction in our country at last. The people have turned against    the militias. They believe the future is good." 
  That future has been bought at the price of the lives of 178 British soldiers    who have been killed since 2003, some in the initial invasion but most in    the traumatic and gruelling guerrilla war that followed but which is now    over. Soldiers died or were maimed in mortar attacks on their bases and by    sophisticated bombs which shot streams of molten metal through the armour of    their vehicles. 
  Now the Army's role is training their Iraqi counterparts as the British    prepare to bring their Basra operation to a close and start leaving Iraq in    May. Soldiers on their third and fourth tour barely recognise the city they    have been sent back to. Mortar and rocket attacks on the British base in    Basra Palace have fallen from five per day a year ago to none since November. 
  Major Jez Mawdsley, of 26 Regiment, Royal Artillery, said: "We're in the    endgame now. The lads want to go to Afghanistan." 
  The officers talk earnestly about their legacy – of helping topple Saddam,    struggling to fill the post-invasion power vacuum, and most importantly,    training Iraqi security forces who can keep the peace when they have gone. 
  Frustratingly for the British though, after years of fighting they had a only    a minor role in the military operation ordered by the Iraqi government last    March which finally drove out the gangs and allowed the transformation of    the city to happen. 
  Thousands of Iraqi soldiers and their US trainers were ordered to finally    grapple with the militias in operation Charge of the Knights. After a few    nervous days of bitter fighting the gangs broke. Many of their 2000 or so    hardcore fighters were killed and the survivors fled to Iran to join their    discredited leader, Moqtada al-Sadr, in exile. 
  Since then, they have barely been seen in the city, their place taken by Iraqi    security forces mainly trained and equipped at great expense by the    Americans. After the militias were forced out their support evaporated among    a population who feared them and were sick of their violence. Few Basrans    want them back, although there are fears that the extremists could try again    if the new mood of optimism is not bolstered by the reconstruction which was    promised in 2003 but never happened. 
  Now it should do. 
  The Americans who are increasingly turning up to replace the British in bases    in the south have bigger budgets and no war to distract them from    reconstruction. They are determined to seal their victory and win hearts and    minds by rebuilding. 
  Captain Robert Lansden, a US Navy captain who arrived in Basra two months ago    to construct a bridge, put the American philosophy succinctly.  
  He said: "Once you've finished killing the bad guys, it's time to spread    the love."