The Ambassador had seemed immune to technological developments in the automobile industry

Recent media coverage showed a sad picture of workers laid off following the closure of the Ambassador car manufacturing plant in Uttarapara in West Bengal. The so-called ‘iconic’ car, Ambassador, or Amby for short, which ruled the Indian roads for nearly half a century, has closed shop.

According to the dictionary, an ‘icon’ is a person or a thing worthy of veneration. But did the Ambassador fit the bill?

Many nostalgic accounts have appeared in the media ruing the demise of the Ambassador, which was one of the most visible symbols of the first 60 years of independent India. Most of these accounts are from the inside, from those who grew up travelling in it with romantic notions of the vehicle, ruing its ultimate death. Or from those who have enough money to splurge on a brand-new heritage vehicle. Perhaps, no one thought of asking these workers what they felt and why they are in the situation they are now.

I was one of those who never got into a car until much later in life. I grew up travelling by foot, cycle or bus. To me, the Ambassador was a symbol of raw power that was visible on the roads when the driver honked at pedestrians, splashed from dirty puddles on rainy days or rushed through red lights without stopping, with a certain arrogance that was probably derived from the status of its occupants. It was, by and large, the chariot of the power-wielders and power-brokers, occasionally with a flag in front announcing their status if there was any doubt about it at all. The arrival of the Maruti, a more efficient and compact car, good-looking to boot, was welcomed but with derision by the romantics of the Amby.

So, should I rejoice at its demise? I perhaps would, but the faces of the laid-off workers tell another story, which may well have ended differently if the makers had thought differently and put technology to good use in keeping with the times.

In the automobile industry the world over and now in India too, changes have come thick and fast. Engines have become leaner, fuel-efficient and lighter. From under 10 kilometres a litre, now cars routinely give upwards of 15 km a litre even in the urban jungles. There is increased awareness of the safety of travellers, which has led to the creation of sophisticated crash zones on the body, apart from simple innovations such as seat-belts and air-bags. The engine compartments have become more compact and the driver has a better view of the road. The cars are aerodynamically efficient. The indicators for turning, braking and other such actions have been standard for decades. Night-driving has become easier with a clearer view and better lights. These are essential to the safety of those inside it as well as those outside.

The Ambassador had seemed immune to technological developments in the industry. The engine and the shape more or less remained the same across the globe in the 1950s. There were superficial changes from Mark I to IV models, but there was little visible technological improvement apart from some chromium plating here and a change in the dash board there. In most of them the turning indicator lights failed after a few months. Even when they worked, they were hardly visible from a distance. The mileage never went beyond 10 km a litre in the best conditions. Seat-belts were introduced after other countries made it a standard feature, and after they were made mandatory here.

My workplace has one of these contraptions and I don’t remember the time when it was easy to lower the window glass. The headlights had a mind of their own, it seemed, and pointed to the skies or directly into on-coming traffic. It was a car that was stayed rooted in the 1950s even after the arrival of the new millennium. Sturdy was the buzzword: but that was for the car. The occupants were better off with cleverly placed crash zones to absorb the impact, leaving them safe in case of an accident. Spacious, except for the fact that the curved edges of seats left you sitting in uncomfortable angles.

To be fair, it was not just the Ambassador that was stuck in the old mould. My father bought a scooter in the 1970s, for which the rear view mirror came as a paid extra-accessory and not as standard though safety dictates that it should be standard equipment. No new technology or feature, if at all, was introduced in any vehicle unless it was required by law. With a protected market and assured profits, no one thought of investing in Research and Development to make these vehicles better, safer and road-worthy.

This attitude is evident even today when one looks at our autorickshaws that are still stuck in a time warp and whose makers do not see any urgency to change. When all over the world automobile-makers were competing to make better machines, it bypassed the makers of Ambassadors and its compatriots of that era.

All this changed, of course, when competition, especially from Maruti in the beginning, showed what is possible. Unable to adapt, caught in a time warp, the icon had become a dinosaur that could not survive. It became a symbol of the status quo that refuses to change for the better. What if the makers, assured of profits from the beginning with protected markets, had made efforts to change, become more efficient, and produced vehicles that were not only eye-catching but also functional? We would have probably seen smiling proud faces of workers in Uttarapara.

murthy@imsc.res.in