I have been to Falluja once before, in April during the "great battle", as they now call it up there. Back then it was like Apocalypse Now, with muj running in the streets and American marines firing at any house they suspected had "enemies" inside. Falluja is a peaceful town now; shops are open and cars are in the streets, and Iraqi security forces are every where: ICDC (the US-trained civil defence corps), policemen, traffic police, and the new Falluja brigade, known as the "brigade of the heroes" by the locals. You can even say that things are normal.

...

Falluja is now like a deja vu from the good old times of Saddam; there are so many former Iraqi military in khaki uniforms, big moustaches and bellies that I am scared that someone will come up and ask me for my military ID card.

But, as everything in the new Iraq, the picture is totally blurred, and no one in Falluja can figure out what the new arrangement actually means. For some Fallujans, it meant that their people would get paid again and they would be in charge of their own security without being seen as collaborators. For the Americans it meant the new force would work with them to enforce law and order in the city, helping to build a new Iraq.

But for other Fallujans, he who works with Americans is seen as the enemy of God. Which means that we now have Falluja versus Falluja in the biggest stand-off of the year: who really controls Falluja?

The city is now like a loose federation of Sunni mosques and mujaheddin-run fiefdoms. These have become the only successfully functioning "civil society" institutions, although the only form of civil society they are interested in is a 1,400-year-old model.