Mini’s Monte magic

17th January 2012

By Anthony Peacock

It may not appear obvious at first glance exactly what Princess Margaret of England, John Lennon, Peter Sellers and Rauno Aaltonen had in common – apart from a love of hard liquor.

But when sufficiently sober to do so, all four of them were Mini drivers. The original Mini was a car that broke down social barriers, proving that almost anybody could be too cool for school. Think of swinging London in the 60s, when hip cats like the Rolling Stones were strutting their stuff on the hit parade. Flared jeans, Carnaby Street and the old-school Mini spring instantly to mind. Yeah baby!

The Austin Mini was such a hit that Ford of Britain actually bought one to pull apart and investigate making their own. Their conclusion was that Mini must have been losing around £30 per car. A load of cash when at the time a tin of baked beans cost four pence. And probably had better build quality.

Mini said that they lost money in some areas and made it in others, but that in the long run every Mini made money. Given that they managed to sell 5,387,682 of the things over the years they were probably correct.

They didn't need to advertise, for example. When Marianne Faithful turned up in one to Mick Jagger's drugs trial in 1967, that was all the publicity needed. Particularly when Mick sped off in it afterwards as a free man.

Austin also didn't bother spending too much money on safety equipment. Seat belts were an option on the original Mini, largely down to the insistence of the car's legendary designer, Sir Alec Issigonis, who claimed: "I make my cars with such good brakes and such good steering that if people get into a crash, it's their own fault."

In these politically correct days of risk assessment and lawsuits, it's refreshing to hear the views of somebody who clearly believed that health and safety were the final bastions of the intellectually challenged.

To prove the point, Austin decided to take its babies rallying. Forget the supermodels like Twiggy driving the Austin 7 (as it was originally known, which was at least snappier than the 'Austin Newmarket' that it was going to be): what really got people talking was when the diminutive Mini trounced the opposition on the Monte Carlo Rally. It won the event three times, which would have been four had not the Minis that finished first, second and third in 1966 not been controversially disqualified for a tenuous headlamp infringement, handing Citroen victory. Amazing how little changes in 50 years or so.

But MINI (as it is now known, in shouty German capitals) is out for revenge. Prodrive, the team that was the architect of Subaru's success on the World Rally Championship, lines up for the first time with two factory cars on the Monte Carlo Rally this week.

True, the Countryman is not quite as diminutive as the original car, being a sports utility four-by-four fashion statement (or something of the kind). When it comes to obscure models, BMW – the new owner of MINI – has created more niches than you would find in the average Greek Orthodox temple.

But this one somehow makes sense, although Dani Sordo and Pierre Campana have an enormous responsibility on their hands if they want to perpetuate the legend.

The Mini's last Monte Carlo win, in 1967, came thanks to Rauno Aaltonen: an unlikely Finnish hero with a haircut that was questionable even by 1960s standards. Nonetheless, with their giant-killing achievements and appearances on Sunday Night at the London Palladium – the equivalent of the Jay Leno show at the time – the Mini and its daredevil drivers became folk heroes all over the world. Question is: will they again?