Susan Sim, Jakarta – After six months of trying to fathom if their President is merely a nicer clone of their former leaders or truly unusually democratic, some Indonesians think they have him figured out.

"I closed my eyes for 15 minutes the other day and realised that to make my own way around, I would have to keep throwing stones," confessed a senior government official.

"That's what a blind man does if he wants to know if what's in front of him is a wall or a river – throw stones and listen. A splash and it's water. No noise – there's nothing there."

The besieged and perplexed army generals, too, are learning the phrase "psychology of the blind": A blind man trusts only those constantly around him, because they are his window to the world, they comfort themselves whenever he scolds them for something the "whisperers" claim they have done.

So, feel ill-used by your leader? You have a choice of using, as your personal lobbyists, either of two groups he has surrounded himself with for years – the Nahdlatul Ulama kyiais, who still jostle for his attention, or the non-governmental activists, whose opinions he respects because they dare to disagree with him.

These people form the key pillars of the myriad network of independent sources of information, including family members, he has always relied on, leading many a nervy Cabinet minister to conclude that they need to see him as soon and as often as possible to counteract any whispers against them.

"The President works out from a constant flow of information, and sometimes the informal sources supercede the official and intelligence sources," confides one minister.

"The only way to counteract the President's view then is to come up with your own information and views immediately. It is always important to see him as soon as possible and not rely on previously agreed-upon policy." But he adds: "Gus Dur does make decisions based on real facts."

Increasingly, however, no one is too sure. Parliament leaders were so stunned when he accused former State Enterprises Minister Laksamana Sukardi of nepotism and defrauding him in a private session on Wednesday, that they declined to formally share this "presidential explanation" of the sacking with the media, lest the repeating validated the charge.

The obvious is clear: the President is legally blind and so is much more dependent on personal aides to gather and interpret information for him than most ordinary mortals.

His unique situation is compounded by the fact that this is a huge country trying to shake off old habits and become more responsive to public needs, but without the benefit of any of the tools for measuring public sentiment, like reliable opinion polls, nor opposition parties able to challenge the government for public attention with alternative programmes. Here, even the sighted sometimes feel like they are playing blind man's bluff.

And Gus Dur is a real character. He has all these paradoxical instincts that come from being a traditional preacher well-used to instant obeisance while brought up on a diet of more eclectic liberal and leftist egalitarianism.

And much as he appreciates the necessity of getting the economy back on track, he does want to be remembered as a universalistic humanist first, able to reunite his fractious country in the peaceful manner which Archbishop Desmond Tutu led South Africa's reconciliation efforts.

Christians, Muslims, victims, abusers, communists, Chinese, Javanese, outer islanders – all are stakeholders in his new Indonesia. But what the Indonesian people see first is a bundle of contradictions, a leader so accessible in so many ways, so modern and legitimate, and yet so opaque in his decision-making, exasperatingly meddling and arbitrary while professing not to be a details man, arrogant in his intolerance of the incompetent and the corrupt, yet as prepared to dole out pardons as he does accusations.

The elites are left gasping for air whenever he speaks, as they try to suss out his intentions, or sometimes whether he is even serious or simply tweaking their noses.

It is almost like the Suharto days, some lamented over a diplomatic lunch recently. Despite all the buzz now about transparency and good governance, they are still reduced to trying to second-guess their President. The only difference is that everyone is wondering out loud now, raising the decibel levels to new highs. Seminars titled Understanding Gus Dur are huge draws.

The masses too are no longer submissive. When State Minister for Regional Autonomy Ryaas Rasyid went on the road recently to explain to local leaders throughout the country how the centre will now share powers with the regions, many sought clear assurances that their confusing national government was not simply engaging in empty rhetoric.

At a town-hall meeting in South Sulawesi recently, a young legislative councillor could not wait to voice his displeasure with the talkative President.

Everyone talks about the need for solidarity-building to solve our problems, so why is Gus Dur creating problems by saying things that set us off against each other, he asked trenchantly.

Because he is so smart, you don't understand him, came the swift retort from Professor Ryaas. "The President believes that democracy is a matter of fusion, democratic government is governing by discussion. He wants to prove to people that no negative consequences will come from having different ideas," he told the district officials and legislators of Pare-Pare, which once produced the country's third president, Dr B.J. Habibie. The fourth president is less into marathon dialogue sessions, but no less tiring.

For Gus Dur, Indonesia is a giant classroom and each of his public appearances is a Socratic lesson, a chance to get his people thinking about their values and their future, to think the unthinkable even.

"He wants to test the people, to find out if they can handle some ideas and discuss them rationally or simply react emotionally. So, when he finds that people are still very emotional about some matters, he will back down.

On some matters, he will say, even if you don't agree, I don't care because Parliament will make the decision," Prof Ryaas continued, setting the audience muttering under their collective breath.

It is the same in Cabinet meetings, ministers say. When his controversial proposal to revoke the 34-year-old ban on communism was discussed in Cabinet recently, and Law Minister Yusril Mahendra declared he would not draft the enabling legislation for the government, Gus Dur assured him: "No, you wouldn't have to. We're not revoking the ban."

But the next day, he was back gnawing at the topic again, raising the hackles of Islamic groups which equate communism with atheism, a violation of the Pancasila state ideology, which mandates belief in God.

Is Gus Dur's real purpose to undermine the basis of the old New Order, built as it was on the graves of hundreds of thousands of so-called communists, as he himself purges the new hardliners in his new regime? Or is he obliquely reminding society of the ills of extremist fundamentalism, of whatever ilk?

Or is he just being compassionate, seeking to redress the wrongs done to those whose only crime is to be a relative of someone suspected of being a communist 30 years ago?

Whatever his specific goals, he has already achieved one key one: he has got people thinking and talking about these hitherto-taboo issues. There are risks, of course, that he will end up alienating even moderate Islamists and military generals tired of having to calm down the furor each time even as they themselves are as confused.

For not only is he breaking the mould of statesman-like national leaders who provide a comforting certainty to their people, but there are also the added fears for his health.

Although the issue is seldom discussed and palace aides take pains to brief the media if he so much as catches a cold, while assuring the public he is in excellent health, Cabinet ministers and aides have noticed two recent changes: His attention span has shortened from 15 minutes to a mere five minutes and he is increasingly temperamental, lashing out at his ministers in meetings for contradicting him.

Taking refuge in good humour, some are now sharing tactics: Does one stop talking when he falls asleep or continue talking and progressively raise your voice until he wakes up? Few, of course, would want to do what Vice-President Megawati Sukarnoputri does – squeeze his knee.

Most, however, are not sure what the protocol should be when he wakes up and asks a completely off-the-wall question. Just take it in stride, some have decided.

"He once woke up and, remembering I had recently come from a foreign visit, asked me how that country was," recalled a minister of a recent briefing he gave the President. "I told him, Pak, that country is very nice, but it's not within my purview."

All of Indonesia, its problems and prospects, are within Gus Dur's purview. A sense of personal urgency appears to be driving him to defy the doomsday assumptions of the cautious and take his people on an extraordinary experiment in democratic life.

Would Indonesians prefer to start with just an ordinary leader who can get the factories working, the schools running and the sewers unclogged for now, before moving onto the visionary stuff? Who can say?