Jose Manuel Tesoro – One can always rely on the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle for a public spectacle. At its six- day party congress, which ended April 3 in the Central Java capital of Semarang, its supporters held the regular loud motorbike rallies. Red party flags were ubiquitous. Stalwarts dutifully dyed their hair crimson or drew the party's black-bull symbol on their bodies. And of course there was the unavoidable scent of menace: from the barely disciplined crowds to grim security officers who harassed journalists, observers and delegates.

The fact that so little has changed with PDI-P, as it is known in Indonesian, might comfort a few. Since its last congress in October 1998, the former outcast party has become the largest part of Indonesia's ruling coalition. It still retains its character as a party of the largely poor and disaffected who have sworn loyalty to party standard-bearer Megawati Sukarnoputri, now the vice-president.

Yet the party's lack of direction has been more a cause of confusion and worry, even among its loyal cadres. On April 2, Megawati, daughter of Indonesia's first president Sukarno, was re-elected as chairperson by acclamation.

There had been no question that she would win. But some senior party members wished the victory had been served up in a more democratic manner. The decision to avoid an open election completely shut out two party figures, Eros Djarot and Dimyati Hartono, who had planned to contest the chairman's position. The two were not appointed to the party's new executive board, which was elected during the same congress. Neither were they allowed to attend the opening ceremony.

As most parties in Indonesia are, PDI-P is a combination of image and reality. The face it presented to voters – Megawati's lineage, plus her suffering at the hands of Suharto – helped it win 33.8% of the popular vote last July, which translated into 154 seats in the 500-member parliament. This was largely thanks to Djarot, a film-maker, publisher, and gadabout intellectual, who had helped craft Megawati's public persona via conversations with the press (especially foreign media) and speech-writing. His stated goal in contesting Megawati's position was that he wanted to modernize the party – to turn it from the gaggle behind Megawati into an organized and principled political force. (Hartono is a party veteran, and his challenge seemed intended mainly to introduce healthy competition in choosing a chairperson.)

The reality is that PDI-P is far from modern. It relies more on Megawati's drawing power than anyone's skill at strategy or organization. As a group, it falls back on Indonesia's feudal political practices – the ties to religion or region, the dependence on patronage – which belies its name as a party of democracy.

And it is traditional politics that is the forte of Taufik Kiemas, Megawati's husband. Keimas is a small businessman, and he dominates the party's rank and file. He undoubtedly saw Djarot's growing influence as a challenge. The shutout of Djarot is an unquestioned victory for Kiemas – but at the cost of disaffection among many of the party's leaders.

What happens now? The short answer: drift. For one thing, given the unseemly split, conservatism will be the natural reaction (which incidentally strengthens Kiemas). It would be unlikely now for PDI-P to come to grips with its failure last October, when the party's arrogance coupled with inexperience cost Megawati the presidency. Despite holding numerical majorities in many provincial and city councils, PDI-P has lost mayoral and provincial races it should have been able to win. Instead, look for more corruption scandals as old habits dominate.

(Already 16 MPs from the province of North Sumatra have turned in their resignations over charges that they threw the election of the province's speaker.) There could be high-level defections – that is, if other parties were not just as mired.

But do not count on Megawati to come to the rescue. She seems powerless to heal the divisions in her party. Another reality of PDI-P is that its revered leader is a very imperfect politician, ferociously private and often aloof and insensitive even to her own followers. Journalists who show up unannounced on her doorstep are rarely welcomed – a surprise for those who arrive expecting an Indonesian Aung San Suu Kyi, enthusiastic to discuss principled democracy.

There are those who see her loss in last October's presidential polls as the logical consequence of her flaws. And if the country's largest party fails to live up to its potential or, worse, disintegrates, the fault will probably lie, too, on the shoulders of Sukarno's daughter.