Democrat...or Boss?

The day President Abdurrahman Wahid arrived at the presidential palace in central Jakarta last October, his spirits and those of the country were riding high. After 32 years of Suharto's dictatorship and 17 months of interim rule by Suharto's deputy B.J. Habibie, Indonesia was finally getting a reformist President who preached tolerance and democratic openness. But as the blind Muslim cleric and his family mounted the palace steps, a cry rang out. A dukun--a Javanese soothsayer--who habitually accompanies Wahid called the party to a halt. He said he could see the "big man," the spirit of Suharto, standing in the doorway at the top of the steps. He insisted on carrying out a prayer ritual before the President and his family could enter the building.

Gus Dur, as Wahid is known to his 212 million fellow citizens, waited for the soothsayer to finish before crossing the threshold. "It was the black power of Suharto," says Yenny, the President's daughter. "He was trying to hurt us."

Thus began the bizarre reign of Indonesia's fourth President, a man so contradictory that even his closest aides say they cannot understand him half the time. With one foot in the traditional world of Javanese mysticism and the other in the modern world of globalization, Wahid has an internal compass that spins wildly in all directions. He knows the Koran by heart and can also discuss German soccer players with Chancellor Gerhard Schroder. He tells risque jokes to his "friend" Bill Clinton and then pays court to Fidel Castro and Muammar Gaddafi. Of more concern, he is fickle in matters of state, saying he would fire his military chief, General Wiranto, relenting and then actually firing him, all in the space of 24 hours.

When Wahid took office, his unpredictability was interpreted as an asset in a complex mission to cleanse Indonesia of the legacy of Suharto. Eight months on, even his supporters are starting to worry that it might be a liability. The economy is barely holding together, and religious violence is shaking the country to its foundations. Since mid-June, more than 200 Christians and Muslims have been killed in fighting in the Maluku Islands. Having admitted that "the situation is out of control," Wahid two weeks ago declared a state of emergency in the region. But the shooting and bombing have continued, and on June 29 an overloaded boat carrying an estimated 491 refugees who were fleeing the violence sank, leaving just 10 survivors. Last week Wahid suggested that some legislators should be detained for inciting violence--only to retract the statement a day later. The U.S. State Department and the Pope have called for decisive action to end the fighting, but concern is growing that Wahid has no concrete strategy for dealing with any of Indonesia's multiple problems.

Even as he tries to push forward with his grand vision of democratic reform, a malign undertow draws Wahid back into the corrupt old ways of Suharto and his cronies. Financial scandals have been creeping closer to his inner circle. Now his former masseur is being investigated for allegedly embezzling $4.7 million from the state rice-distribution agency.

Moreover, Suharto's shadow may hang over Indonesia until the disposition of the ex-dictator's allegedly ill-begotten fortune is determined. Last month a court in Jakarta threw out a defamation suit brought by Suharto against TIME for a May 1999 article claiming that the President and his family had acquired some $15 billion during his rule. (Suharto has appealed.) Wahid cites the suit as proof of the dictator's hidden wealth. Defense Minister Juwono Sudarsono has accused cronies of Suharto's of inciting bloody riots to derail further investigations. Yet in the meantime, Wahid has been secretly negotiating with Suharto to return some money--for a presidential pardon.

Few would dispute that Wahid is genuinely committed to democracy and free and fair markets. And nobody accuses him of being personally corrupt. But, says Muhaimin Iskandar, head of the National Awakening Party, Wahid's faction in the parliament, "from the beginning, management has been his problem."

Two strokes and diabetes have left Wahid with no vision, so he relies on a group of close aides and family members to brief him, read documents and even describe the body language of people he is meeting. Many fear this system is open to abuse. "His inner circle poses the greatest threat," says Zastrouw Ngatawi, a former assistant and author of a book about Wahid. "People are [invoking] his name, and this will distract from the ideas he is trying."

There is little to fault in those ideas. On a recent trip to Lombok, a tourist island whose hotels were emptied after an outbreak of Christian-Muslim violence in January, Wahid preached a gentle message of tolerance to both sides of the community. In a mosque, one man angrily asked why Wahid and his 30 million-member Nahdlatul Ulama Muslim organization has not done more to base the new government on Islam. Wahid calmly replied that he is not going to make Indonesia into an Islamic country because that was never the N.U.'s intention and other religions need to be respected. By the way, he continued, the N.U. was founded by 6,000 wise Muslim clerics, and did the questioner want to criticize all 6,000 of them? The crowd dissolved into laughter; the questioner was speechless. This is the weapon of the famous Wahid wit.