"I live and die for Basra, how beautiful is Basra," go the lyrics of an ever-popular folksong about the city once again being played from the music stands in Basra's market places.
After almost two weeks of liberation by coalition forces, they are words that no longer seem so incongruous. Although days of looting have left their mark upon the city, among the wrecked buildings and many bland construction projects of the former regime it is possible to glimpse the former vibrant port town that held a touch of oriental glamour.
In Basra's old Jewish quarter shopping boutiques announced their reopening last week by dusting off long-stored Persian rugs and tourist trinkets, while down its many waterways fishermen have begun to offer pleasure cruises with the promise that their "yachts" would be ready next week.
Brig Graham Binns, commander of 7th Armoured Brigade, seemed as inspired as the songwriters when he told a recent meeting of the interim city council of his hopes for creating a modern democratic Basra.
"Basra is like a child that in the fullness of time will grow with like life, energy and ambition, and it is for you to look after this child," he said.
But though the assembled sheikhs and imams nodded sagely and crowds continue to cheer British forces on the streets, what has been immediately apparent in the days after liberation is that few have grasped exactly what their freedom might mean.
Thirty years of Saddam's rule seem to have bled the city of all but its most entrepreneurial of spirits and, away from the cosmopolitan promise of Basra's centre, residents have greeted their empowerment with a mixture of incredulity and nervousness.
At al-Tubah school, one of five primary schools which service a population of 65,000 in al-Tumenah district, the headmaster Hussein Jassim explained that he was ready to reopen the school after zealously guarding the small concrete compound with the caretaker's AK-47 for the past month. "We are now only waiting for an order from the authorities before we begin," he said. When told that those authorities no longer existed and he was free to begin work himself by a British officer, he appeared not to understand.
"How can we take responsibility for 300 children without government approval?" he asked.
He gracefully declined the offer of paint to cover over the many Baath Party slogans painted on the schools walls, or of new textbooks without the obligatory "Saddam is our glorious leader" printed at the bottom of each page.
"I do have dreams of new school equipment, of course, but it is not our custom to accept such gifts. You should speak to the sheikh first," he said, adding: "Though it would be good if you removed the two Iraqi tanks from the playground."
Like many of Basra's professionals, al-Wani is increasingly turning to old tribal leaders who have stepped forward to fill the power vacuum.
At al-Tumaneh's health clinic, Dr Alhan al-Temeene had less reticence in accepting British aid. His clinic deals with 500 patients a day, most of whom are suffering from gastroenteritis and typhoid caught from drinking dirty water.
"We have a month's supply of drugs left over from the UN, but unless we get more soon people will start to die," Dr al-Temeene said.
But though a "little sheikh" himself, Dr al-Temeene had so far refused to join al-Tumaneh's fledgling council to secure the supply of aid.
"That is the job for Hakim my cousin, the head of our family," he said, "He is a good fighting man." It is martial prowess like Hakim's and the resurgence of tribal rivalry, however, which have so far threatened to delay relief work.
At the British headquarters where al-Tumaneh's interim council has been hosted recently, yesterday's task of appointing a police chief for the district descended into acrimony amid conflicting claims that he had killed 155 people last year on the one hand, and on the other that he steadfastly resisted the regime.
It took the local imam to bring a little perspective into proceedings. "Fellow residents," said Imam Jabir, a resident of the district for 73 years, "we are not impressing our hosts. We must bear in mind they are here to help us. Let us talk civilly and truthfully about how we can make this area beautiful once again.
"You must not lose hope in us," he said to the British officer present, "our way of doing things is slowly and with much arguing."
Outside the headquarters an unexpected visitor to the meeting gave an idea of just how long and profound will be that task of re-empowering the people of Basra.
One of al-Wani's pupils had arrived at the gate asking for water, wearing a dirty dress and holding her baby sister while her mother visited the clinic. When asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, six-year-old Fatima said: "A doctor. But I do not know how to become one. Can you tell me how?"