AS YOU would expect in a country at war, Yemen bristles with guns. The forces of the internationally recognised government carry Kalashnikovs. So do the Iranian-backed Houthi rebels, who toppled it in 2015. But it is not just the combatants who pack heat. The country has more privately owned guns per person than any except America, where prosperous gun-lovers can afford far more. Many Yemenis sling rifles over their shoulders or tuck handguns into their trousers before going out. Markets sell everything from pistols to bazookas. You cannot go far in most cities without seeing someone with a gun.

That is what makes Mukalla, the capital of Hadramawt province on the southern coast, so unusual. The only people carrying guns are in uniform. Banners warn civilians not to bear arms in public. Those wishing to enter Mukalla must hand over their weapons at one of several checkpoints. As if manning a cloakroom, soldiers hand out receipts so that owners can reclaim their guns when leaving. A storage container at the al-Solb checkpoint holds enough confiscated guns to equip a militia.

In 2015 Mukalla was overrun by al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP), seeking to carve out an emirate far from the battlefields to the West. A year later Yemeni recruits trained and backed by the United Arab Emirates and its special forces wrested control of the south and kicked out the jihadists. The fighting led to an influx of weapons, says Brigadier Omar Ahmed Badubeis, who manages operations in the southern part of Hadramawt. Nevertheless, the city has remained relatively peaceful since then. The ban on carrying guns in public aims to keep it that way.

No other city in Yemen has tried such an experiment—because it probably would not work anywhere else. “In other places, manhood is proven by carrying weapons,” says a resident of Mukalla. It is also how tribes show their strength. But with its strong ties to India, Mukalla has been different for generations. In the 1930s Britain established a Hadrami Bedouin Legion to bully local tribes into signing truces. The lasting result was weaker tribes, fewer feuds and less of a gun culture. “Even in tribal disputes, people decline to fight, and go to the courts instead,” says Faraj al-Bahsani, the governor of Hadramawt.

The ban has gone down well with Hadramis, who consider themselves unique. Abu Bakr, a trader in Mukalla, says they are less politically ambitious and therefore more peaceful than most Yemenis. The Sufi brand of Islam is popular in the region and is credited with steering people away from weapons. It is really quite simple, says Abu Bakr, “we don’t like carrying guns.” If only the rest of Yemen felt the same way.