'High Noon' for Wahid.(Abdurrahman Wahid)

Indonesia's president Abdurrahman Wahid, who is nearly blind, moves among shadows. But in his mind, Wahid likes to think of high noon, when the sun shines white-hot, and it's easier for him to sense shapes and colors, especially blue. The American film "High Noon" happens to be one of his favorite movies; he can rattle on about its stars, its director, even its theme song. "Once someone made a video documentary about Indonesia and wanted to call it 'High Noon in Jakarta'," recalled Wahid after he took a recent predawn walk around the palace grounds, attended by nine aides, doctors and bodyguards. "High noon was supposed to be my confrontation with Wiranto," he says. He's referring to one of the most decisive moments in his 15-month-old government--when he sacked armed-forces chief General Wiranto to show his commitment to military reform. The 60-year-old president chuckles now about that high-stakes episode, but says: "For me that wasn't a movie, it was real life."

Wahid has got plenty more real-life showdowns ahead of him. In fact, Jakarta is girding for a high noon when Parliament resumes this week. Tens of thousands of pro- and anti-Wahid demonstrators are expected to converge in the streets, drawn to the flame of financial scandal. Wahid's former masseur has been accused of stealing $4 million from a government food agency, after telling officials at the agency that the president had requested the money for "humanitarian purposes." Wahid was cleared by a preliminary inquiry, and is expected to ignore an imminent call to appear in Parliament for questioning. The scandal, which broke last summer and was dubbed Buloggate (after the name of the food agency), has prompted calls for Wahid's resignation. (The masseur has admitted taking money but reportedly denied any involvement by Wahid.) Indonesian ministers have briefed jittery foreign diplomats on security precautions. Some 40,000 Army and police personnel have been mobilized to guard against violence. One embassy has warned that the Chinese New Year, beginning Jan. 23, could spark a reprise of the Bloody Christmas bombings that killed 18 people. Analysts say a sense of psychological crisis has gripped the capital. "Jakarta is already in gridlock," said one Western business consultant last week. "This is classical psychological warfare."

It is not easy to figure out who is fighting whom. In recent months Indonesia has been rocked by all manner of violence and unrest-- separatist fighting in the western province of Aceh, Muslim-Christian battles in the Moluccan islands and a spate of mysterious bombings on Java. Wahid believes political enemies--associates of former dictator Suharto--have been trying to destabilize his government since his election in October 1999. He asserts they are the masterminds behind the vicious blasts that exploded at numerous Christian churches the night before Christmas. He could be right. Preliminary police reports have mentioned the names of retired and current military officers, including former Army chief of staff R. Hartono, as possible links in the bombing probe. Several are said to be expert at dirty tricks. However no military men are official suspects.

Critics call Wahid Indonesia's accidental president. He is a well- respected Muslim teacher, or kyai. He's also a man with a reputation for tolerance and candor. But his management style often gets him into trouble. Last year he fired the squeaky-clean minister of Investment and State Enterprises, Laksamana Sukardi, arguably the strongest man in a weak cabinet. In a closed-door meeting with legislators, Wahid accused Laksamana of corruption--but offered no evidence. (Laksamana has denied it.) Few Indonesians took seriously Wahid's seemingly quixotic bid for the top job in October 1999. The front runner was Megawati Sukarnoputri, daughter of the late Indonesian president Sukarno. But the country's Islamic parties were opposed to the idea of a woman president. Wahid, the head of the Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), a vast Muslim social-and-educational organization, became the alternative choice--and his Muslim credentials secured his victory. Wahid then asked Megawati to be vice president.

That was a prudent decision by a decidedly unconventional leader. Before the election, Wahid told supporters that he'd dreamed of becoming president. Wahid's political win only enhanced his reputation for having mystical powers. The president maintains that dreams can be useful, and on occasion he has allowed aides to rearrange his office furniture according to the principles of feng shui--but only, he says, because they (not he) believe in that stuff. "I follow dreams only if they're in line with my agenda," he insists. "Though I hear even Nancy Reagan supposedly believed in astrology."

Intervention from the heavens would not hurt. Wahid's fresh-start government has been a disappointment. In the past year the Jakarta composite stock index lost more than half its value. The rupiah has tumbled about 26 percent. Foreign investors remain spooked by nonstop political crises. James Castle, head of the Indonesian-American Chamber of Commerce, called the investment climate "frigid to say the least." Despite some export growth, Wahid's government has failed to reform the banks or to privatize state assets. Last month the IMF withheld a $400 million credit disbursement to Jakarta because it had failed to implement a number of promised economic reforms. Corruption and nepotism remain rampant. One Western diplomat despaired that economically, "the country is rotten to the core."

Nor has Wahid succeeded in calming the turmoil roiling Indonesia's outlying regions. A technical ceasefire in Aceh was extended until Feb. 15--but it was a mockery to begin with. Eight people have been killed in clashes between the military and separatists of the Free Aceh Movement since the truce was renewed last Wednesday. Each side has killed, abducted and tortured those perceived to be collaborators for the other.