Alfasud: driver’s dream, owner’s nightmare
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Alfasud: driver’s dream, owner’s nightmare

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By DrJohnWright - 17 April 2017
The original Alfasud was a utilitarian four-door sedan, pretty in red.

From day one the Alfasud was faster point to point than its rivals. Sadly, it didn’t take many years before the proof bubbled through that it also rusted faster. There were reports of brand new Alfasuds displaying corrosion before they had even left the showroom.

What hope, then, for the eager customer buying a brand new car that was parked in, say, Bondi Junction or Vaucluse within a kilometre or two of the Pacific Ocean? I knew one such fellow, who also just happened to be a motoring journalist. His once enormous enthusiasm for the Alfa Romeo marque never recovered and he seemed to be quite irritated that his Sud experience entirely failed to deter me from falling in love with Alfa's at about this time, though not so much the Sud as the Alfetta.

In the light of this dire reputation, it is interesting to note what the celebrated journalist Jerry Sloniger wrote in his drive report which appeared in the September 1972 edition of Wheels magazine under the heading ‘Alfasud: a certain winner if…’ The ‘if’ Sloniger had in mind was closely connected with build quality. While poor quality steel was the main factor, shoddy manufacturing must also have contributed:

We can view the new Alfasud from many angles but we can’t escape one certainty – Alfa Romeo is on to a winner here if…

And therein lies the future of this interesting new car. If the Italian Government-owned car maker can convert a batch of farmers into mechanised assembly line workers in a bright new factory in southern, sunny Naples it will sell Alfasuds like chianti on Saturday night.

But with absenteeism running as high as 40.5 per cent Alfa has problems. The new production line is running at half capacity with every alternate body cradle arriving empty at the assembly line.

However, the car deserves to succeed.

Despite design and technical help from the parent plant in Milan and despite a high degree of automation it remains amazing that the all-new car can be as total a package as it is. The big trick remaining will be quality control on a level to match the first-series cars we drove in the shadow of Vesuvius.

Jerry Sloniger was Wheels magazine’s European editor for many years and in the 1960s his byline was simply ‘Sloniger’. He was a witty writer, evidently an enthusiast, and delightfully cynical. It was excellent practice to open his review of the acclaimed Alfasud in this questioning spirit. He continued:

The Alfasud itself makes maximum use of recent technology, fitting a sporty engine and four full adults (Alfa calls this a five-seater but you know how that is), plus sufficient luggage into just over 150 inches of overall length. Admittedly, dials are sparse and rubber mats belie the projected $A2200 European price class. It might even do better with a glovebox but the basic machine is right.

Love ‘it might even do better with a glovebox’!

No question, the poor quality Eastern European steel with its impurities was the main culprit but the manufacturing process in Napoli also left much to be desired. Due to frequent strikes and walkouts, unpainted panels could sit around in the weather. There were stories of rusty panels being painted and there was no anti-corrosion process.

These cars rusted pretty much throughout but one of the most dangerous areas was the front chassis rails. But that’s enough of the bad news.

It seems extraordinary that the designers did not incorporate a hatchback in a design that lent itself so well to this practical feature.

Let’s remember the enormous joy the Sud brought in 1972, before front-wheel drive had become the norm for small cars. Just about the only point of comparison was the Mini- Cooper, although the little Alfa could also be likened to the Hillman Imp in exerting great appeal to the enthusiast driver. The fact that two such utterly different small cars – each uniquely radical – could have appeared within a decade of each other is itself surely newsworthy all these years later when it’s getting harder to distinguish one shopping trolley from another!

The Alfasud was Alfa Romeo’s first attempt to build a volume selling small car. It competed in Europe with assorted Fiats, Renaults, Citroens, Volkswagens and so on. Most Japanese imports were more expensive.

Despite being outwardly small, the Sud was well packaged, aside from the driving position. The interior was very spacious and the boot above average for the class. The driver was happier if long of arm and short of leg, but even such an individual would be likely to hit throttle rather than brake at first, so far offset to the left were the pedals. Ergonomics were a definite weak point.

In some respects the Alfasud can be seen as a kind of Italian Subaru Impreza WRX, 20 years ahead of its time. The boxer engine displaced just 1186 cc but delivered an impressive 63 brake horsepower (DIN). Torque was naturally at a premium but the top speed was more than 90 miles per hour with effortless cruising at 75. Bear in mind though that a 1967 Corolla could have cruised at this speed, too (as well as attaining it in third gear!).

Despite having made its debut at the 1971 Turin show and being tested by the press the following year, the Sud did not arrive in Australia until late 1974. It was initially priced at $3695 but rose within months to $3995, which was plenty for such a small car. A standard Holden HJ Kingswood cost $19 less, while your correspondent’s all-time favourite Datsun 120Y was $3031. Enthusiast cars of the day included the BMW 2002 ($6460), the Datsun 260Z ($6678), the Rover P6B 3500S ($7796) and that other Alfa newcomer, the wondrous Alfetta ($6390).

Peter Robinson could barely contain himself in his local road test which appeared in the February 1975 edition of Wheels:

Make no mistake about it, the Sud is every bit as refined as the other Alfas, including the Alfetta, and stands shoulders above most other cars, regardless of price. Some WHEELS readers have suggested the Sud might not be a true Alfa – in the sense that it retains the wonderful character of the marque – because it is essentially a cheap car and is a complete swing away from traditional Alfa design. They need not have worried – the Sud is very much an Alfa with all the precision and verve people expect.

Robbo, like Sloniger and many others, acknowledged the car’s poor finish and shortfall in torque, but he just loved driving it. Even by 1972 rack and pinion steering and four-wheel disc brakes (inboard at the front) were rare in small cars (remembering that Wheels’ inaugural – 1963 – Car Of The Year, the Renault R8 had these features, but blessedly its front disc were conventionally mounted).

Next came the two-door (lower case) ti variant. Steve Cropley’s road test appeared in Wheels for May 1975. He, too, raved about the little Alfa, although his injunctions about poor finish were sterner:

The finish on the Alfasud isn’t impressive. There are rough edges here and there, the driver’s door was hard to close, paint drips on the inside of the doors and the wiring is Alfa-untidy. The dash rattled annoyingly in our test car and the ashtray vibrated out onto the floor a few times, too. Least impressive of all was the way the taillight wiring ran across the flat of the boot floor, unprotected except for the thin rubber boot mat. A few loads of luggage, a few rough roads and in no time there’d be electrical shorts or worse. It would never do for a Japanese manufacturer.

Modest increases in power and torque, a five-speed gearbox (the original Sud having just a four-speed unit), comprehensive instrumentation, sports steering wheel and centre consoles marked the ti as the premium Alfasud. It cost $4650. But it could do a genuine 100 miles per hour, making it only about five mph slower than an HQ Premier 253 V8 auto: there’s some performance perspective!

Cropley observed that it was a pity Alfa’s designers hadn’t made it a proper hatchback – another shoddy feature that the bootlid when open simply rested on the rear window – but in fairness the Sud wasn’t alone in 1975. My own Passat TS bought used the following year was the same and so was the Alfetta GT.

The Alfasud’s brilliant chassis was crying out for this Ti variant.

Fortunately, Alfa did improve the Sud significantly over its near-decade lifespan and doubtless my aforementioned colleague’s later model (third series) resisted rust a little better than the earliest examples.

In 1979 the ti was revised with a 1.5-litre engine and a new variant, the Sprint went on sale. The Sprint was an elegant hatchback coupe. 

In 1982 the third series Suds and ti models were released. All variants got the 1.5- litre engine with 84 brake horsepower at 5800 rpm. The ti finally acquired a hatchback, complete with an additional rear crossmember for bracing. There was a wiper/washer arrangement but no split/fold rear seat because obviously the beancounters reckoned the bottom line had to be drawn somewhere.

By 1983 the Alfasud had matured and this QV (Quadrifolglio Verde or Green Cloverleaf) version is highly desirable to Alfisti.

Also in 1982 the ti got twin carburettors and 11 more horsepower, but the Sprint had to wait two more years for this improvement.

Probably because it was a later design the Sprint proved less susceptible to rust than other Suds, though it was still bad.

In summary, corrosion has accounted for the vast majority of Alfasuds ever built and that’s a real shame because in terms of its mechanical design and dynamics even the entry level four-door sedan was a world-beater. Is there any such thing surviving as a pristine Alfasud? You tell us! But a twin-carb Sprint would, for me, rate as one of the most desirable cars of the 1980s and, as Peter Robinson said in his test of the sedan in 1975 – regardless of price.

This Sprint QV is the ultimate expression of the Alfasud concept and proved (blessedly) less susceptible to rust that all others.