The White Ambassador

Not long ago, Indira Gandhi was the monarch of all she surveyed, socialism was the mantra, Amitabh Bachchan was very much the angry young man – and the Ambassador ruled the roost and the Indian roads both.

`Amby’ to millions of its fans, it carved out a niche for itself in the nascent Indian automobile market. There used to be a wonderful advertisement, “Whenever you see colour, think of us” for Jenson and Nicholson, with the ubiquitous red post box in the background! In the case of the auto sector, it could well have been, “Whenever you think of cars, think Ambassador”!

Hindustan Motors say that they brought the car to the Indian market in 1956, after which there has been no looking back. Interestingly, HM quotes satisfied customers from far and wide to describe their product a `well rounded lady’ – which beats my imagination, even though Amby caught the imagination of the nation as a whole. It helped that there was virtually no competition, barring from the Fiat or the occasional Herald, Standard, and the like. No wonder, the HM speaks proudly of the `emotional connect’ the Ambassador has with the Indian people.

By choice or otherwise, Ambassador became the car of the country, thanks also to the patronage it got from the state. Remember an ad of a fleet of White Ambassadors coming down the Rashtrapati Bhavan towards Vijay Chowk? That single picture tells a thousand stories of the might of the Ambassador in its heydays!

One didn’t have to say Ambassador those days: one just had to say `the car’! It was everywhere, all though the nooks and crannies of India. East or West, North or South, the Ambassador was the Lord of the Road! It ferried the President, Prime Minister and high dignitaries; it also was the vehicle of the common man, except probably the then Bombay where Fiat was the `in thing’. `Taxi’ meant Ambassador to every one of us – and not any other car. Any mechanic worth his name and salt could take care of its ailments! High ranges or mere plains, rocky terrains or muddy waters, nothing was insurmountable for dear old Amby.

And to stand testimony to its timelessness, the Ambassador retained its features all through. The Mark 1s and 2s of the 1970s would as well have been the original 1956 version itself, with minor adjustments to the head or tail light or both, or the grill or the door handle! It didn’t, though, matter to us: probably, Amby wanted to maintain its pristine purity and glory – or, possibly, it didn’t intend to hurt the feelings of Indians by reinventing itself! Whatever be the reason, the Ambassador remained the Ambassador.

The Grand Old Car of India held sway in no uncertain terms, even after competition came its way. The big bullies of the road were scared of its steely sturdiness, what to speak of the Marutis and its clones. The invasion of the hatchbacks also led to many auto jokes, the mildest of which used to be: “What did the Maruti do when the Ambassador suddenly came in front?” “Maruti su-su ki”!

But, as it happens, the nouveau riche had a different take as the money rolled in. Today, the small cars of Maruti fame are threatened by the big cars and the bigger SUVs. By the way, the small cars and the new cars were termed nuclear family cars by their media savvy ad-men:  if that were so, the Ambassador was then the `joint family car’ in the truest of Indian traditions!

Presidents and Prime Ministers, visiting Heads of State and Government, and assorted dignitaries, have been Amby’s patrons. It was, for all practical purposes, the `State Car’. If we had a National Car, like the National Bird or the National Flower, it would certainly have been the Ambassador! Indira Gandhi was the last Prime Minister to lend further dignity to the White Ambassador; her son switched allegiance to Tata Safari and eventually the BMW took over.

Nonetheless, the White Ambassador even today stands apart on the Indian roads. The Amby of the taxi fame is, of course, there everywhere.  HM has brought in new shades of colour too, not to forget more modifications in the head and tail lights, grills and door handles – as they have been doing ever since their market monopoly was threatened. One even comes across `chic’ Ambassadors ferrying real Ambassadors of foreign countries on the Capital’s roads.

Undoubtedly, the White Ambassador has a special place in Indian minds, and not just on the Indian roads. If you entertain any doubt, please check out any state Capital in the country: even today, every minister, every senior government functionary and every government department has a White Ambassador. The President and the Prime Minister may have switched sides, but certainly not the ministers and others. The Esteems and the Indigos have indeed made inroads, but the roads still belong to the Ambassador. The red or blue light on top, the white leather cover on the flag rod in place, lace curtains drawn, the White Ambassador glides past, everyone else giving way, not out of fear of the convoy of Whites carrying black cats, but also in deference to the Amby – and may be to its occupant!

I am told that even where other flashier cars are available, ministers and babus insist on the White Ambassador. The reason and logic are plain and simple: the White Ambassador represents state power and its occupant is considered to be a VIP, unlike the other cars, may be bigger or better, which do not inspire the same respect! A case for `Neighbours’ Envy, Owners’ Pride”?

In sum, the White Ambassador continues its majestic ride on the Indian roads. No wonder, HM says that the Ambassador was put on a special display for six months at the Smithsonian Gallery in Washington DC.

Three Cheers to The Ambassador!

Photo courtesy: Hindustan Motors