New Class on the Autobahn

Nothing brings a more purposeful expression to the face of a German motorist than the glimpse of another car fast overtaking from the rear. Usually, his reaction is to tramp on the accelerator and do battle. But the prudent motorist respectfully pulls into the right lane when he sees a blue and white me dallion on a weasel-like grille barreling down upon him. And with good reason, for it is the emblem of the sleek five-seater produced by the Bayerische Motoren Werke. The BMW can outperform and overtake almost any standard German car on the autobahn. This year it proved that it could outdo its competitors in the market place as well: amidst a general economic slowdown and dwindling car sales in Germany, peppery little BMW is forging steadily ahead.

While such giants as Volkswagen, Opel (G.M.) and Taunus (Ford) have cut back production to meet declining demand, BMW in Munich has been turning out its cars at full two-shift capacity. In the first five months of 1967, overall German car sales dropped 18%. At the same time, BMW increased its own turnover by precisely the same percentage, expects to reach the $250 million mark in total sales this year.

For Men. Would-be customers are willing to wait eight weeks for delivery and pay up to $4,375 for the privilege of whizzing along no-speed-limit German autobahns at 100 m.p.h. and more. "BMW drivers drive like hell," says a company official. The drivers include Actor Peter Ustinov, Politicians Franz-Josef Strauss and Rainer Barzel, as well as the Swiss police. Above all, a widening circle of modern Germans on the go, professional men and young executives embrace it as the "Auto for Men," their symbol of class and style.

Before World War II, Bayerische Motoren Werke was famous as a maker of motorcycles and racing cars. During the war, the Munich plant produced airplane engines for the Junker bombers and for Hitler's jet fighter, the Messerschmitt ME 262. In 1947, after the U.S. Army stopped using BMW's shops to repair its tanks, the company started making motorcycles again, and began looking around for a car design as well. Misjudging the market, BMW decided on an eight-cylinder luxury job which cost so much to build that it lost money from the start. Simultaneously, the company started producing a loser on the other end of the scale: the onecylinder 13-h.p. Isetta. By 1959, the firm was so deep in the red that merger or absorption seemed inevitable. Rumors spread that several big firms, including Daimler-Benz and General Electric, were making bids. This so shocked proud Bavaria that a public campaign was begun to save the flagship of local industry.

Something for Sportsmen. What really saved BMW was a management shuffle in 1961-62. The new team included Director Paul Hahnemann, 53, in charge of production and sales, a former Opel man. Looking for a car with popular appeal, he discovered a wide space between the cheap small cars and fat sedans, decided to move into the middle-price range and catch buyers willing to pay a bit more for styling and speed. On the road since 1962, the "New Class" line of cars, so named for its appeal to the modern German, comes in four basic models. Two of these, the "1600," at $2,162, capable of doing more than 100 m.p.h., and the luxury class "2000 CS" ($4,375) which cruises comfortably at 116 m.p.h., account for the bulk of this year's sales.

The new management phased out the old models to concentrate on the New Class category, sold BMW's interest in an airplane-engine plant to put all resources behind the new car and motorcycles. In 1962, the company sold 43,000 cars and 4,300 motorcycles. Last year sales were 71,274 and 9,071 respectively. For Hahnemann, a stocky man who wears slacks and an open shirt to board meetings, it is all good fun. He says: "I bring a sportsman's attitude to business. Business is a game for sportsmen."

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