For two bloody years, hopes for peace in Iraq have lain buried in the rubble under the ruined golden dome of the Al-Askari shrine in Samarra, symbolic epicentre of the country's sectarian war.

Now there is movement amid the wreckage. Workmen are scavenging for scraps of gold and clearing debris, preparing to rebuild the golden-domed mosque just as US and Iraqi military commanders strive to rebuild the shattered peace.

Samarra has been a hotbed of the Sunni insurgency against US and Iraqi forces, and it is still the scene of frequent bloody clashes. Now, however, there is a sense that peace might yet become possible.

"Before, there were a lot of terrorists in the area," said Hussam Majid, a lean 22-year-old salesman lounging outside a goldsmith's shop in Samarra's decaying and semi-abandoned commercial centre.

Enthusiasm to rebuild shrine

"There were shootings and bombings, but it's getting better and we hope the market will reopen, just like before. It's a good idea to rebuild the shrine. A lot of pilgrims used to come," he told AFP through a US army interpreter.

The Al-Askari shrine, whose collapsed dome lurks reproachfully over Samarra's downtown market, is central to Samarra's hopes for economic revival, but also a symbol of Iraq's political catastrophe.

On 22 February 2006, alleged al-Qaeda extremists marched into the mosque and used explosive charges to bring down the famed golden dome, which was built in 1905 over a far older shrine in honour of the Imam Mahdi.

The ninth-century Mahdi was the last of the 12 imams to lead the Shiite Islamic nation. He was born in Samarra and mysteriously disappeared here. To this day, the Shiite faithful await his return to Earth in glory.

This attack on the world's third holiest Shiite shrine by Sunni extremists was the lever that al-Qaeda needed to push Iraq's resentful religious sects into open warfare, triggering two years of vicious bloodshed.

With sectarian violence raging in the capital Baghdad, and roads in the north and centre of the country prey to insurgent groups and militias, the Sunni city of Samarra ceased to be a draw for Shiite pilgrims.

Violence is falling

Meanwhile, Sunni insurgents and foreign al-Qaeda fighters infiltrated the city and the farming hamlets in the Tigris valley around, carrying out attacks on US forces and on traffic on Iraq's main north-south highway.

Today, violence is falling in Samarra, some businesses are reopening and the United Nations cultural organisation UNESCO has teamed up with the Iraqi government to start work rebuilding the desecrated shrine complex.

But the US unit charged with securing the city — 2 Battalion 327 Infantry of the 101st Airborne Division — recognises that Samarra is still one of the toughest corners in Iraq.

Major Jim Deore, the battalion's operations officer, notes that Samarra has been captured three times before — twice by US forces in 2003 and 2004 and once by Iraqi units in 2005 — only to fall back under al-Qaeda's sway.

He hopes the current joint US-Iraqi push to drive out militants and restore trust in government will be the last, but his men face serious challenges.

"Our focus is getting Samarra the way it used to be"

Samarra's economy has collapsed, along with the city's population. From an estimated pre-war high of 360 000, Samarra currently probably only houses between 90 000 and 120 000 people.

Constant insurgent attacks forced the security forces to close many access roads to the city, including a key bridge across the Tigris, preventing food and fuel from getting to market.

When the 2/327 Infantry arrived in October, they found al-Qaeda had free range over much of Samarra. US patrols would be attacked daily by roadside bombs and gunmen with machine-guns mounted on Toyota pick-ups.

Now, much of the violence has been pushed into the still hostile east of the city, while in the older western half the Sunni tribes are increasingly cooperating with security forces.

The Tigris river bridge has reopened to some traffic and the troops have repaired an immense earth berm around the city, leaving open only two roads protected by permanent Iraqi army checkpoints.

This has prevented insurgents from bringing in bombs, and they have been forced to resort more often to gun and grenade attacks, US officers say.

The al-Qaeda threat

Deore estimates there were around 150 hardcore al-Qaeda militants — backed by many more sympathisers —within the city when the berm went up. His men are now hunting them down with the help of tip-offs from local sources.

So Samarra could be at the tipping point, like that passed last year further west in Iraq's Anbar province, where al-Qaeda was routed out after local tribes switched their support to the Americans.

Perhaps, but there are worrying signs as well.

Firstly, success by coalition forces in Baghdad and Anbar to the south and a new crackdown just announced in Mosul to the north, could force al-Qaeda fighters to turn their attention back to Samarra.

Secondly, while patrols into the city now chat to locals and oversee school reconstruction as much as they engage in fire-fights, the city is still far from reconciled with Baghdad's new government.

Support for Saddam Hussein was strong here, barely 30 kilometres (18 miles) south of his birthplace, and, despite once relying on Shiite pilgrims for much of their income, people distrust Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki's Shiite-led regime.

Earlier this month, Lieutenant Matt Bryant's patrol stopped to talk to workers at a flour ration distribution centre in a residential district in the heart of the city.

Samarra's significance

"We understand how important the city is to the country, and our main focus is getting Samarra the way it used to be," he promised Ibrahim al-Abassi, the depot's burly supervisor, decked out in a grey dishdasha robe.

"You are American. You see Samarra as a place for pilgrims," replied Abassi, blaming the economic hardship on the roadblocks around the city.

"The Iraqi government thinks of this as a religious place. This government just abandoned the people and is playing with religion. They ignore the economy," he said, as his colleagues nodded their agreement.

Abassi's complaint can be heard elsewhere in Samarra — why all this fuss over a shrine when people are going hungry?

Lieutenant Bryant heard the men out, and then told them about the work that is going on in their area to reopen a school and a clinic that had been taken over by the Iraqi police during the fighting.

The atmosphere in the small, street-corner depot was friendly, but outside the patrol remained on its guard, crouched on street corners, rifles ready.

As the second anniversary of the shrine bombing looms, Samarra has earned a moment of respite. If the peace is to hold, Iraq and the US forces will have to convince men like Abassi that they offer a better future than al-Qaeda's.

AFP