The Rise of Sound Horeg: Indonesia’s Thunderous Street Phenomenon
In recent years, a unique and thunderous form of street entertainment has swept across Indonesia, particularly in East and Central Java. Known as sound horeg—from the Javanese word for “vibrate”—this phenomenon involves towering stacks of speakers mounted on trucks or boats, blasting bass-heavy music through neighborhoods during weddings, carnivals, religious celebrations, and even political rallies. For many, sound horeg is a symbol of festivity and community spirit, transforming ordinary events into electrifying spectacles. But for others, it has become a source of public disturbance, health concerns, and social conflict, sparking a heated national debate that now involves religious authorities, government officials, and local communities.
What Is Sound Horeg?
Sound horeg is more than just loud music—it is an immersive experience. Trucks or large vehicles are outfitted with custom-built sound systems, featuring powerful amplifiers, subwoofers, and vibrant lighting. These mobile audio setups parade through streets, drawing crowds of young people and onlookers who revel in the pulsating beats of electronic dance music, dangdut koplo, and remixes. The music is so intense that it can physically shake windows, rattle walls, and, in some cases, cause property damage.
The origins of sound horeg can be traced back to the 1970s in East Java, where a fascination with Western rock and pop music led to a demand for high-quality sound systems. Over time, these setups became central to local celebrations, from family gatherings to government-sponsored carnivals. The phenomenon exploded in popularity after the COVID-19 pandemic, as communities sought new ways to celebrate outdoors. Today, sound horeg is a staple at Independence Day parades, religious festivals, and even political events, with some operators earning substantial incomes during peak seasons.
Culture, Identity, and the Sound Horeg Economy
For many Indonesians, especially youth and working-class communities, sound horeg represents more than entertainment—it is a form of identity and collective expression. Sociologists describe it as a grassroots celebration, a way for communities to reclaim public space and create their own entertainment ecosystems in areas where affordable options are limited. Being part of a sound horeg group is a source of pride, and “battle sound” competitions—where operators compete for the loudest, most impressive audio—are fiercely contested, with winners gaining fame and increased business.
The economic impact is significant. In Greater Malang alone, there are reportedly 1,200 sound horeg operators, with 500 employing thousands of people. Renting a sound horeg setup can cost anywhere from two million to 100 million rupiah (about US$121 to US$9,400), a substantial sum in a region where the minimum wage is just over two million rupiah per month. During August, when Indonesia celebrates its Independence Day, some operators can earn up to 500 million rupiah (over US$30,000) in a single month.
Sound horeg has even caught the attention of the Ministry of Law and Human Rights in East Java, which has proposed granting intellectual property rights (IPR) to the sound system as a recognition of local creativity and innovation. Supporters argue that this could lead to better regulation and recognition, while critics worry it may legitimize a practice that is already causing social friction and noise pollution.
Public Outcry: Health, Disturbance, and Social Conflict
Despite its popularity, sound horeg has become increasingly controversial. Residents across Java have voiced complaints about noise pollution, property damage, and disruptions to daily life. The volume of these sound systems often exceeds 100 decibels—comparable to a jet taking off—far above the 85-decibel threshold considered safe by health experts. Prolonged exposure can cause permanent hearing loss, sleep disorders, elevated stress, and even cardiovascular problems, especially among vulnerable groups like children and the elderly.
There have been alarming incidents linked to sound horeg. In early August, a woman in Lumajang Regency reportedly collapsed and died after complaining of dizziness while watching a sound horeg show. In another case, a teenager and a nine-year-old were injured when a sound system fell on them during a parade. Videos circulating on social media show trucks tearing down gates, bridge railings, and road signs to make way for the massive equipment, further fueling public anger.
For many, the issue is not just about noise, but about power and social inequality. Critics argue that sound horeg is sometimes used by local elites—landlords, businesspeople, or village officials—to assert dominance, turning noise into a weapon that silences those without the means or influence to object. Complaints can invite social backlash or even intimidation, especially when the operators are backed by powerful patrons.
Religious Edicts and the Role of the MUI
The controversy reached a new level in July 2025, when the East Java branch of the Indonesian Ulema Council (MUI)—the country’s top Islamic clerical body—issued a fatwa declaring sound horeg haram (forbidden) for Muslims under certain conditions. The fatwa was prompted by mounting complaints from residents and Islamic boarding schools, who cited not only noise and public disturbance, but also concerns about inappropriate dancing, alcohol consumption, and the exposure of children to uneducative shows at sound horeg events.
The MUI Fatwa Commission Secretary, KH Miftahul Huda, explained, “When such activities cause environmental damage and disrupt public order, they fall under the responsibility of security forces like the police or Satpol PP, and cannot be resolved by a fatwa alone, as fatwas are not legally binding.”
The fatwa specifically targets mobile sound horeg events that involve sharia violations or disrupt community peace, while allowing the use of sound systems for official or religious events at reasonable volumes. The Central MUI clarified that it had not issued a national fatwa; the ruling came from a forum at an Islamic boarding school in Pasuruan, East Java. Nevertheless, the edict has intensified calls for government regulation and sparked debate about the balance between religious norms, freedom of expression, and community welfare.
Government and Police Response
Following the fatwa, the MUI urged the government to issue clear regulations to control the use of sound horeg systems. Local authorities have responded by forming task forces and holding meetings with sound horeg operators, resulting in agreements to limit volume and seek consent from affected residents. However, enforcement remains a challenge. Police resources are limited, and penalties for violations are minimal—typically a small fine or a few days in jail. In some cities, such as Malang and Blitar, local bans on loudspeakers in public streets have been enacted, but these rules are inconsistently enforced.
The Ministry of Law and Human Rights’ proposal to grant IPR to sound horeg has also sparked debate. A poll by Surabaya-based radio station Suara Surabaya found that 63 percent of respondents opposed the move, citing ongoing noise and public order issues. Some artists and cultural critics argue that traditional art forms, such as reog or jaranan, are more deserving of recognition and protection, while sound horeg is seen as disruptive and “anti-cultural.”
Sound Horeg and the Question of Social Justice
The debate over sound horeg is not just about noise—it is about the deeper social structure of who gets to speak and who must listen, who celebrates and who suffers. Defenders frame it as the “voice of the people,” a symbol of grassroots empowerment in a society where public space is often restricted. Yet, as researchers point out, the cost of renting a full sound horeg setup is often beyond the reach of ordinary villagers, and the real beneficiaries are sometimes local elites seeking to showcase their wealth and influence.
For those on the receiving end, especially the elderly, infants, and laborers who need rest, sound horeg can be a source of suffering. Complaints are often met with resistance or even violence, as seen in a recent incident where a father pleading for quiet for his sick child was assaulted by parade participants. In effect, sound horeg can create an “acoustic hierarchy,” where those with money and power control the village soundscape, and those without must endure it in silence.
Seeking Solutions: Regulation, Dialogue, and Cultural Balance
With the controversy showing no signs of abating, experts and community leaders are calling for a balanced approach that respects both cultural expression and public welfare. Banning sound horeg outright is seen as neither feasible nor just, given its economic and social significance. Instead, stakeholders advocate for participatory regulation, technical training for operators, reasonable curfews and decibel limits, and incentives for compliance.
As one academic analysis put it, “This is not about silencing communities. It is about reimagining celebration in a way that includes everyone—not just those who can afford to be heard.”
Some communities are experimenting with compromise solutions, such as restricting parade hours, rerouting events away from residential areas, and promoting civic education about mutual respect. The government is encouraged to promote dialogue among religious leaders, business operators, health experts, and residents, and to raise awareness about the health risks of excessive noise.
There is also a call to draw on Indonesia’s own philosophical values—such as those embodied in Pancasila, the national ideology—which emphasize just and civilized humanity, unity, and social justice. By grounding regulation in these principles, Indonesia can strive to balance freedom of expression with social responsibility, preserving both cultural vibrancy and community harmony.
In Summary
- Sound horeg is a popular but controversial form of street entertainment in Indonesia, involving powerful mobile sound systems at public events.
- The phenomenon has deep cultural and economic roots, providing income and identity for many, but also causing health risks, property damage, and social conflict.
- Public outcry has led to religious edicts, with the East Java branch of the Indonesian Ulema Council declaring sound horeg haram under certain conditions.
- Government and police efforts to regulate sound horeg face challenges due to limited resources and enforcement difficulties.
- The debate highlights broader issues of social justice, power, and the right to public space, with calls for participatory regulation and community dialogue.
- Indonesia continues to seek a balance between cultural celebration and public welfare, drawing on local values and innovative solutions to manage the sound horeg phenomenon.
