GUNUNG KEMUKUS (SEX MOUNTAIN): LEGENDS, SHACKS, RITUALS

GUNUNG KEMUKUS — SEX MOUNTAIN

Candi Cetho, a temple not far from Gunung Kemukus, abc, net

The site most widely associated with ritual seks is undoubtedly Gunung Kemukus, bettern known as Sex Mountain, an otherwise unremarkable hill located 30 kilometers north of Surakarta (Solo). It is here that Pangeran Samudro, a young prince, is said to be buried. According to local legend, he engaged in a forbidden sex with his mother or stepmother, Nyai Ontrowulan. Forced to flee, he was eventually captured and killed, but not before vowing to grant prosperity, health, and happiness to those who would follow his example by entering into similarly prohibited relationships at Gunung Kemukus. There is a shrine where the forbidden sex is believed to have taken place. [Source: Pilgrims, Prostitutes, and Ritual Seks by Volker Gottowik, Journal of the Humanities and Social Sciences of Southeast Asia, Volume 174, Issue 4, 20 November 2018, Pages 393-421]

Gunung Kemukus rituals combine Islamic, Hindu and Buddhist influences — a very Javanese blend of religious beliefs that doesn’t exist elsewhere, or at least is very rate, in the Muslim world. One of the main reasons the tradition continues in Muslim Indonesia is that brings in lots of money for locals and is strongly backed by the local government. “The Islamic religion forbids it, but they don’t want to know that,” Sex Mountain expert Professor Keontjoro Soeparno told SBS . “They’re more interested in profit, they leave religion behind.” [Source: Patrick Abboud, SBS One, November 18, 2014]

It is estimated 3.5 million people visited Genung Kemukus in 2005. Alongside pilgrims that go there to pray and people that go there to have sex with each other, sometimes with strangers. , which is supposed to bring luck as well as wealth. Based on legend above, which dates back to the 16th century, the pilgrims believe seven visits and prayers to the adulterous prince Samudro will bring good fortune Up to 8,000 people visit Sex Mountain on its busiest nights/ When they pray the pilgrims say things like: “Please grant me great financial good fortune… please give me lots of money to pay my debts...If I get lots of money, I’ll go to Mecca, that’s my ambition.” .

Sex at Gunung Kemukus

scene at Gunung Kemukus, abc, net

Since the 1990s in particular, the site has drawn large numbers of pilgrims—men and women alike—who come with the intention of engaging in sexual relations outside marriage as part of a ritual quest for blessing. It is believed to be especially potent if the act is repeated with the same partner over seven consecutive Jumat Pon nights and carried out as close as possible to the tomb. As at Parangkusumo, the number of male pilgrims has consistently exceeded that of females leading to the establishment of a visible presence of sex workers. Many of them have operated in karaoke bars situated near the shrine, blending pilgrimage, commerce, and desire in a single, highly charged space. [Source: Pilgrims, Prostitutes, and Ritual Seks by Volker Gottowik, Journal of the Humanities and Social Sciences of Southeast Asia, Volume 174, Issue 4, 20 November 2018, Pages 393-421]

From the Gunung Kemukus legend described above emerges a belief that pilgrims must replicate the prince’s transgressive act under specific conditions. The story holds that participants should return to the mountain every 35 days, completing the act seven consecutive times, in order to receive blessings, prosperity, and good fortune. Crucially, for the ritual to be effective, the partner involved should not be one’s spouse, reinforcing the idea that it is the forbidden nature of the relationship that carries spiritual potency. [Source: Patrick Abboud, SBS One, November 18, 2014]

“It’s a strange thing. A paradox: there’s a mosque, shrine — but outside — there’s a place for having illicit sex,” Keontjoro Soeparno, a professor at Gadjah Mada University, told SBS. “The fact is — it’s hypocritical,” he adds. The contradictions surrounding Gunung Kemukus are difficult to ignore. Islamic teachings clearly prohibit adultery, making the ritual’s emphasis on extramarital relations fundamentally at odds with mainstream religious norms. The ritual is also not a very good to prevent sexually-transmitted diseases from spreading.

On Gunung Kemukus karaoke bars and so-called “sex shacks” line the hillside, some privately operated and others reportedly supported by local authorities. The “sex shacks,” offer rooms rented by the hour and cater to pilgrims who have found temporary partners. Some don;t bother with shacks and have sex under the trees Despite this visible infrastructure, there is a reluctance among officials to openly acknowledge what occurs there.

Gunung Kemukus Pilgrims

Australian journalist Patrick Abboud documented life at Gunung Kemukus by speaking directly with the pilgrims who travel there, revealing a complex mix of devotion, secrecy, and personal hope. Many of those who come are married, and within the logic of the ritual, extramarital encounters are seen by participants as part of the custom. For some, this creates a quiet двойственность between private belief and public morality. As one man admitted on camera, “I don’t tell my wife. There’s no way she’ll find out.” [Source: Patrick Abboud, SBS One, November 18, 2014]

The crowd itself is diverse: married men, women seeking opportunity or escape, local officials, and sex workers all move through the same ritual space. Despite the controversy, many pilgrims frame their goals in spiritual terms. Others are more pragmatic. One regular visitor, Mardiyah, explains simply, “I come here to seek good fortune.” Like thousands of others who make the journey across Java, she considers herself a devout Muslim and approaches the site with prayer and intention, hoping the ritual will ease her financial struggles.

Others travel long distances to participate. A pilgrim named Gepeng, who journeyed hundreds of kilometers, describes the practice in matter-of-fact terms: “You go there to look for a different partner, not the one you have at home. Historically that’s how it works.” Another man accompanying him echoes the earlier sentiment of secrecy, saying, “I don’t tell my wife. There’s no way my wife will find out.” These voices highlight how normalized the practice can feel to participants, even as it contradicts broader religious expectations.

The ritual itself follows a sequence. Pilgrims first pray and leave offerings at the tomb, then cleanse themselves in nearby sacred springs. Only after these acts of devotion do they proceed to seek a partner. Yet even among those who oversee the site, there is an attempt to distance the official ritual from what follows. As one caretaker explains, “Pilgrims should come here with pure hearts and clean bodies… We’ve never said the sex is a condition of the pilgrimage. It’s what they want to do.”

Over time, the imbalance between male and female visitors has contributed to the growth of a commercial sex economy around the hill. According to Keontjoro Soeparno, “The government facilitated the rise of prostitution. The Islamic religion forbids all this, but the government would rather not know about that. Because they’re more interested in profit — they leave their religion behind.” With stalls paying fees and pilgrims charged entry, the site generates steady income, especially on peak nights when thousands arrive. Despite skepticism, belief in the ritual’s effectiveness persists among participants. Mardiyah, for instance, attributes improvements in her life to her visits: “Praise be to God, after coming here, even though I have a few debts, my business is making a bit of a profit. Even though it’s small, I still give thanks that I’ve received blessings from here.”

The popularity of Gunung Kemukus as pilgrimage site started in the 1980s and increased dramatically in the late 1990s, with international journalistic attention beginning in earnest in the early 2000s. At that time Reuters correspondent Aubrey Belford wrote an article titled ‘The swingers’ guide to Islam’ that set the tone for most of subsequent publications on the topic characterizing Gunung Kemukus as “ a mass ritual of adultery and sex... going on in the middle of Java, the demographic heart of the world’s largest Muslim-majority country.’

Efforts to Shut Down Gunung Kemukus

This uneasy coexistence was disrupted in November 2014, when authorities intervened decisively. All prostitutes were expelled, karaoke venues were shut down, and local residents were prohibited from renting rooms to visiting pilgrims. The crackdown followed the broadcast of an Australian documentary titled Sex mountain (Abboud 2014), which brought sudden international scrutiny to the site. The resulting media attention was intense, spreading across Indonesia and even reaching national outlets such as The Jakarta Post.

For many years, Islamic organizations such as Majelis Ulama Indonesia and Front Pembela Islam had campaigned against what they described as a “mass ritual of adultery and sex” at Gunung Kemukus. Despite their sustained pressure, they were unable to compel local authorities to act. That changed abruptly in 2014, when Australian journalist Patrick Abboud released his documentary Sex Mountain. Just nine days after it aired on SBS One, all ritual activities at the site were officially banned.

The closure of Gunung Kemukus in November 2014 triggered extensive media coverage across Indonesia. National outlets such as The Jakarta Post, Kompas, and Tempo, along with regional papers like Kedaulatan Rakyat and Solopos, reported extensively on what was widely seen as an unprecedented intervention. In particular, Solopos, based in Surakarta, published nearly fifty articles between November 2014 and May 2016, documenting the ban and the political and social reactions that followed. Coverage surged immediately after the documentary aired on 18 November 2014, peaked with the official shutdown on 27 November, and gradually declined from mid-2015 onward as activities at the site slowly resumed.

For a time, the future of Gunung Kemukus appeared uncertain. Yet the prohibition proved temporary. By the period following Eid al-Fitr in 2015, a gradual return to earlier patterns was already underway. By October of that year, 5,000 pilgrims were once again recorded visiting the hill on Jumat Pon. Despite attempts at suppression, the site has retained its emblematic status. As one observer noted, “what is truly surprising is that even while Indonesia undergoes a steady shift towards more orthodox Islam, the ritual on Gunung Kemukus is exploding in popularity. It’s a quintessentially Indonesian contradiction”.

What Gunung Kemukus Says About Indonesia

Interestingly, despite frequent claims that Indonesian society is undergoing rapid Islamization, religious arguments played only a limited role in media narratives about ritual seks. While some politicians framed the practice as a threat to public morality, it was primarily MUI and FPI that invoked religious doctrine, condemning the site as tempat hiburan haram (a place of forbidden entertainment). Although both organizations hold influence—MUI through its moral authority and FPI through its often confrontational activism—their impact on public discourse and policy decisions in this case remained limited.

Instead, foreign media—particularly Australian television—proved far more influential. It was only after SBS One broadcast Sex Mountain to an international audience that political leaders in Central Java felt compelled to intervene. This dynamic reflects the well-known idea that “the medium is the message”: the practices at Gunung Kemukus had been widely known domestically for years, but it was their global exposure through visual media, coupled with an الخارج perspective, that triggered decisive action. The resulting sense of embarrassment was captured by an Indonesian online headline: “The ‘divergent ritual’ at Gunung Kemukus is a worldwide topic; the governor is ashamed.”

This widespread sentiment of public shame—rather than longstanding moral or religious criticism—was crucial in prompting the temporary closure of the site. As such, the episode does not neatly support the notion of a steady, all-encompassing Islamization of Indonesian society. Instead, it highlights the existence of competing influences, where traditional practices, economic realities, and global visibility intersect.

Indeed, reports from Solopos and other newspapers rarely emphasized Islamic values in their coverage. While concerns about morality were occasionally voiced, policymakers largely approached the issue pragmatically, focusing on the economic consequences of declining visitor numbers for the local community. Rather than seeking a permanent ban, discussions centered on regulating activities—assigning defined roles to karaoke venues, prostitution, and ritual practices within the site. Ultimately, efforts to eliminate them entirely were abandoned due to their economic importance.

In this context, political decision-making was driven less by abstract religious ideals than by considerations of общественное welfare and local livelihoods. The case of Gunung Kemukus illustrates a broader pattern in Indonesia: governance often seeks to balance competing forces and maintain social equilibrium, rather than impose a single moral or religious framework against the realities of everyday life.

Image Sources: Wikimedia Commons

Text Sources:“Encyclopedia of World Cultures Volume 5: East/Southeast Asia:” edited by Paul Hockings, 1993; “Culture and Customs of Indonesia” by Jill Forshee, Greenwood Press, 2006; National Geographic, New York Times, Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, Smithsonian magazine, Encyclopedia.com, Library of Congress, Indonesia Tourism website (indonesia.travel), Indonesia government websites, Live Science, The Conversation, The New Yorker, Time, BBC, CNN, Reuters, Associated Press, AFP, Lonely Planet Guides, Google AI, Wikipedia, The Guardian and various websites, books and other publications.

Last updated April 2026