Jakarta – If life had gone the way he planned nine months ago, Dr B.J. Habibie would be planting tulips, writing a book or two about aeroplanes and just pottering around his retirement home in the northern German town of Hamburg today.
Instead, his last 100 days have been parcelled into endless meetings with all manner of visitors come to cajole, petition, preach, demand, debate and, perhaps more agreeably, comply with his wishes.
The "accidental" President, as Cooperatives Minister Adi Sasono likes to portray close friend Rudi's ascent to the country's hottest seat on May 21, came with a closetful of historical baggage which ensured that he did not have a sweet "honeymoon".
Not that it prevented him from enjoying some of the job perks, like conferring the country's most prestigious medal on his wife and appointing some of his loyal friends to the highest legislative chamber – little mis-steps which can charitably be put to political inexperience, but which a leader with little popular support can ill afford.
Yet if he thought his first 100 days were rough, the next 100 could be even tougher. As the intellectuals' reformasi and an unforgiving economic crunch combined to lift the floodgates on decades of pent-up anger and frustration among the wong cilik (little people), Dr Habibie has tried to stem the tide with food subsidies, amnesties, and promises of justice.
He has also promised to put an end to looting sprees by organised gangs and reigns of terror by the Indonesian military. To do the first, and disrupt the continuous slide into anarchy, he needs a strong and united military.
But to placate public anger over the abuses and extra-judicial killings of the past, he has to distance himself from the military and metaphorically or otherwise, join in its public trial.
A demoralised military already suffering from the privations of budget cuts and diminished "contributions" from the business community might find its rank and file empathising with those resorting to looting sprees to survive.
When civilian forces seek to punish soldiers for carrying out orders emanating from a previous government they can hardly distinguish from the present, then even colonels might have little patience for reformasi. When their commander, General Wiranto apologised for the atrocities perpetuated by the military in the troubled provinces of Aceh, East Timor and Irian Jaya, some colonels were heard muttering about an "excess of reformasi".
The unceremonious sacking of Lt-General Prabowo Subianto last week might not have appeased those who felt he deserved more punishment for ordering the abductions and torture of political activists. But for a military in turmoil, it bore the hallmarks of top brass sacrificing one of its young to political expediency.
Insiders say that in a secret meeting last week, a group of 175 colonels circulated a letter protesting against the "unjust" treatment of Lt-Gen Prabowo's sacking. For them, a key question must have been: Will I be next?
Undoubtedly, a spring cleaning within ABRI is required to sweep out those unable to accept the new political realities – normal laws must now apply. But purge and re-education need to be carried out carefully and sensitively. For Dr Habibie, it is all too inopportune.
In 71 days, the People's Consultative Assembly meets to set a new election time-table. Anything he does until then can be used by opposition elements to turn the meeting into an indictment of his rule and that of his mentor, former President Suharto.
More street demonstrations appear inevitable as students and all manner of activists insist on having their say. Will the soldiers choose sides then, crushing all dissent to prop up a weak leader, or will they join the people to topple one they have learned to hate?