Iraqis find solace in "Dr. Phil"

BAGHDAD, Iraq — The young men at the checkpoint couldn't have been older than his teenagers. Wielding Kalashnikovs, they brusquely ordered Shamil Hashem Suhaili, 50, and his 16-year-old son, Ahmad, out of their car.

They demanded identification. Where are you going? Where are you coming from?

The hydro-engineer could do little but submit.

"I answered them politely," he said. "If you make a mistake they could do anything to you. If they want, maybe they will get your mobile phone, your money, maybe they take my son. They are the judge. They do whatever they want."

Frightened and angry, Suhaili headed home for a meal with his wife and three children. He then powered up his generator and wound down his nerves with one of the few things that give him comfort: the "Dr. Phil" television show.

In a world of armed gangs, random shootings, blackouts and trash heaps, salves are where you find them. For Suhaili, they're a family lunch, gardening and Dr. Phil, the balding American talk-show host from Texas, whose weekday TV program airs with Arabic subtitles on a Lebanese-based satellite channel.

Syndicated and subtitled versions of "Dr. Phil" and "The Oprah Winfrey Show" are growing in popularity throughout the Middle East. For Iraqis, they offer a window to a world in which people are more concerned with bedroom and workplace foibles than mortar rounds and death squads.

From the moment Suhaili clambers out of bed, his travails are beyond the scope of a Dr. Phil episode. He struggles through the dark and muggy heat, hoping there's enough water for a shower.

In his beat-up Volkswagen, Suhaili girds himself for the hourlong ride past multiple checkpoints to his job at Iraq's Ministry of Water Resources. If he's short on gas it means a dangerous wait at the fuel station, or paying steep black-market prices for fuel.

"Sometimes these people are cheating," he said. "They mix it with water or diesel. It ruins your car."

But much of his frustration is more mundane: Hours of work are lost on his computer because power goes out at the ministry. A checkpoint delay holds him up for an hour. Teachers demand bribes to help his two sons, Abdullah, 19, and Ahmad, 16, advance in school. Fear of suicide bombs at a crowded, no-frills market forces him to shop at one that's more expensive.

He worries about the unspeakable. His daughter, Yasmine, 22, travels along dangerous roads to medical school. His sons attend a school riven by sectarian tensions. His wife, Hadel Hazem, a retired electrical engineer who runs a small nonprofit for widows, insists on driving herself around the city.

After work, school and errands, the family members gather midafternoon for lunch and share stories of the terrible fates of others. Abdullah and Ahmad discuss setting up a computer network among neighborhood boys so they can compete at video games without leaving their homes.

Sometimes the anxiety explodes. An argument breaks out. There are tears. But also hugs and apologies, quiet moments of reflection.

And Saturday to Wednesday, from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m., there is Dr. Phil McGraw, the best-selling author and TV host who exhorts viewers to "stop talking and do something."

One episode the family remembers fondly: A naughty daughter constantly fights with her mother, who tends to be harsh. The mother has no idea how to calm her daughter, so she keeps yelling.

Dr. Phil demonstrates to the mother that her daughter is emulating her bad behavior. Both mother and daughter come to a realization. They begin to be nicer to each other.

"I feel that he has really great power to understand people's problems and how to solve them," Suhaili said.

He hopes Dr. Phil can serve as a substitute social world for his children, who aren't able to spend time with friends, date or leave home after dusk.

"I want to show them these are the ordinary problems people deal with," he said.

During idle moments, Suhaili composes imaginary letters to his favorite television host.

"Dear Dr. Phil," he begins. "How I can live this difficult life? I forgot what normal life is like. Sometimes I work in the garden to keep my mind off my troubles. I feel more comfortable working in a green place. But some days even the garden doesn't help when you hear that old friends have been murdered and people have fled the country."

Suhaili doubts Dr. Phil can help him or Iraq.

"If you compare our problems now with the problems he is talking about, it is very big difference," he said. "He's addressing psychological problems, how to deal with people. Here you are dealing with big problems. You are dealing with insurgents and terrorists.

"How would Dr. Phil disarm a militia?"