In the center of this rural village near the border with Iran, an American colonel was talking with three sheiks.

"Would you like us to point out the bad people to you?" one of the sheiks asked.

"Yes, point them out and we'll take care of them," the colonel said, his arms pinned to his side by a crowd of men and boys curious to hear their liberator speak.

"Of course," the sheik said, "we can point them out to you, and then we can take care of them ourselves."

"No, just go about your business," the colonel said.

The marines took no prisoners here today, and there are probably few arrests to come. Though the Americans have promised to hunt down the Baath Party officials who have ruled here for 35 years and prosecute them, it is nearly impossible to do so.

After all, the local townsmen whisper, many families had Baath Party informants, and every neighborhood had a member of the party. The connection proved important for employment, promotions and the well-being of their children.

Moreover, the motives of those offering to help the American military are suspect.

"Do not trust the shieks," said Habib Hadi, a petroleum engineer who speaks English and was drinking tea at the market. "They want power. It is better to believe that the soldiers and party members have gone. How do Americans say — sleeping dogs?"

In this conservative Shiite Muslim village, folk wisdom says, allegiances flow in the order of Allah, family, village, clan and tribe. Relations are a complex stew. An enemy one day may be a friend the next. A rival becomes a brother-in-law. The settling of scores will be done by the men of this village, not the men of America or Britain.

According to the Moroccan journalist Anas Bouslamti, who has studied the Middle East for 15 years and was in Kumait today, a family could not eat without some connection to the government, and all but the most destitute households were tethered to it in some way.

"In times like these, when the power is collapsing, the people shift to the winning side," Mr. Bouslamti said. "When the power falls, the people say they had nothing to do with it. They saw nothing. They are innocents. The same thing happened with the Nazis, the Communists and the Taliban."

This evening, black plumes of smoke billowed from the center of the nearby city of Amara and loud explosions rumbled across the desert. The Americans had pulled back to base camps or were bivouacked on the outskirts of the city on the Tigris. The war for internal power is on.

The United States military is not policing the local streets, fearing that it would appear to be an occupying force.

"Our main function here is to wrest control of the country from Saddam," said Brig. Gen. Rich Natonski, commanding officer of Task Force Tawara. "Once we accomplish that, then the work of rebuilding this country can begin."

In the meantime a picture is starting to emerge of life in the Hussein era. The local men say a man will humiliate himself or inform on his neighbor in the face of terror and torture. How else could more than 100 men in this village of 3,000 have gone missing?

"My brother, he just disappeared one night in the hands of the secret police," said Ahmed al-Eidi, a schoolteacher. "They never gave me his body."

The brother of Mr. Hadi, the engineer, was hanged in public, accused of sedition. Mr. Hadi himself spent a month in prison, where he said he was tortured. He described the cell as a squalid room without windows or ventilation. The guards were hardened men who resented even giving him a glass of water. They administered beatings to the bottoms of his feet.

"I did nothing, I tell you that, believe me," Mr. Hadi said. "Somebody accused me of saying bad things about Saddam. I did not."

The reception for the Americans today was lukewarm. These are conservative Muslims. They complained that soldiers had distributed pictures of women with their heads bared. They asked the colonel to tell his soldiers not to touch or speak to their women at the checkpoints.

Times are hard. The value of the Iraqi dinar has fallen since the beginning of the war. Power is out all along the countryside. The Iraqis thank the Americans for bringing freedom, they desire their help, but they are beginning to ask how long the Americans will stay.

"I think 770 days will be enough," said Ali Shahar, an elementary school principal. "Two years. Rumsfeld promised two years."

This evening, a man's daughter was shot in the back of the head by misdirected American fire. The father wanted an assurance. "Promise me this will not be an occupation by the Americans," he said