(CNN) -- One day a few months ago, Indonesia's interim president, B. J. Habibie, went before a forum of German and Asian editors to talk about his troubled country in the aftermath of a tumultuous change of government.

Before the speech was over, Habibie confirmed to the startled editors what had only been widely rumored before: that he had been the target of what he believed was a coup attempt barely one day after he took office last May.

Habibie said he and his family had to take refuge in the Presidential Palace due to unauthorized and highly threatening troop movements around the family's private residence.

AT A GLANCE The man at the helm of ABRI today, General Wiranto, holds the dual portfolios of armed forces commander and Minister of Defense and Security in the Habibie government. For more on Wiranto, click here

The allegation carried major implications.

It did nothing to endear Habibie to the omnipotent Indonesian military, which has always been wary of him and doubtful that he could lead the nation out of the morass of the post-Suharto era.

And it set off alarm bells among the country's newly emerging democratic forces of democracy about just how far the Indonesian Armed Forces, or ABRI as they are known, were willing to go in allowing a transition to democratic rule.

Doubts about the politicians

They had reason to worry.

Only once in the nation's half-century of independence has Indonesia experienced a free and fair election. That was in 1955, and it ended badly, as the country lurched from crisis to crisis under Sukarno, its charismatic, but erratic, national founder.

What ABRI learned from that experience was that democracy did nothing to bring prosperity to Indonesia, and that the military was the only institution with enough cohesion to rule the country and prevent chaos and civil war.

Now, 44 years later, it is questionable whether the 250,000-strong military is ready to allow democracy another try.

Recently, a senior army officer believed to represent the strongest view within ABRI looked at the field of 48 parties and splinter groups competing in the June 1999 parliamentary elections and said the armed forces were convinced that civilian politicians are not up to running the country.

Part of the problem is ABRI itself and the role it is accustomed to playing in Indonesia.

Heroes with an agenda

Emerging in 1949 as national heroes from the war of independence against the Dutch, the armed forces were the only institutions that represented nearly all of the hundreds of ethnic groups across the sprawling, 13,600-island archipelago.

Suharto as a young general

There was a shared perception that the military was created by the disparate tribes themselves rather than by civilian political leaders. ABRI was seen not only as fighting for independence alongside the people, but also participating extensively in civilian matters.

ABRI believes that early experience in civil affairs gave it the right to play an extensive role in non-military affairs, a role that took shape as the doctrine of dwifungsi, or dual function. Although never translated into law, the doctrine continues to govern the Indonesian armed forces to this day.

It is a doctrine that gives ABRI two nearly equal roles: national defense against external threat and reinforcing internal social and political order. The latter allows ABRI to insinuate itself into every level of Indonesian society, from village council to parliament, from schools to state-owned companies.

Bloody pacification campaigns

Under the 32 years of Suharto's rule, during which Indonesia faced no real danger of external attack or invasion, ABRI focused almost entirely on suppressing whatever it deemed to be internal threats to the regime, whether it be critical media, opposition in parliament or dissent in the street.

This Aceh man said a soldier struck him on the head and robbed him, further inflaming villagers against government troops sent to repress Acehnese rebels

And the suppression was harsh, especially against the grass-roots separatist movement in the disputed territory of East Timor. The army also waged unrelenting warfare against small bands of guerrillas in the provinces of Aceh, Maluku and Irian Jaya, and the civilian populations that it believed was sheltering them.

Tens of thousands of Acehnese, East Timorese and Irian tribes people were killed in ABRI's many pacification campaigns, alienating the local populations and heightening calls among them for independence.

At the same time, senior members of Suharto's military generation enriched themselves enormously with government contracts and lucrative mineral and business concessions. They also wrenched protection money from small entrepreneurs and big-company executives who wanted only to be left alone to earn a living.

By the early 1980s, Suharto had forced into retirement or otherwise removed from positions of influence dozens of commanders from the "Generation of '45" who fought in the independence struggle against the Dutch. These commanders had strong ideas about the way ABRI should perform its duties, and were increasingly vocal about what they saw as the degeneration of the armed forces into a mafia of sorts.

Disgruntled, demoralized, inept

Wily politician that he was, Suharto also used his power and influence to rotate and play his top ABRI commanders against each other.

He promoted them when they did his bidding and demoted them if and when they challenged his decisions or made a move toward independence from him. He also helped relatives and cronies leapfrog into choice commands, often over the heads of career officers.

The legacy of Suharto's long reign over ABRI, critics say, is an increasingly disgruntled, demoralized and inept military, bewildered and threatened by the wave of public fury and social chaos sweeping over them. Many have become dependent upon outside "commissions" and other earnings that have afforded them a more comfortable lifestyle than soldiers in similar economies elsewhere.

How they will react as the campaign frenzy mounts, and with it the calls for drastic reform of ABRI, is highly uncertain. So far, the rank-and-file has confined itself to occasional excesses in putting down demonstrations, yet looked somewhat helpless during the recent waves of ethnic and sectarian violence.

Middle-ranking officers say that behind the scenes, the brass is watching closely and maneuvering into position to take back control if the election and "democratic" developments erupt into what they perceive as chaos. Or if the newly elected civilian authorities try to take away ABRI's special privileges.