When is the last time you saw a real legend out on the street? When I encountered this little critter in Bangkok the other day, I immediately thought it was your Commie-or-garden Zhiguli, a.k.a the Lada 1200. Was it worth taking the time to document it? But no, as I approached, I saw this was the real thing – a genuine 124. Hold the borscht, have some minestrone.
Fiat probably never expected, back when they designed the 124 (and its fraternal twin, the 125), that it would become one of the world’s most ubiquitous shapes and be made for decades in a dozen countries. But the 124/125 succeeded where Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan and the Axis Powers failed. This unassuming four-door conquered the whole of Eurasia, from Iceland to Indonesia. Even parts of Africa and the Americas were eventually under its spell.
From the 1970 brochure, back to front: Fiat 125, 124 and 124 S
And yes, the 124 and the 125 are somewhat different, at least in their Italian guise. They share a lot of sheetmetal, but underneath things are not quite the same. The 125’s rear suspension is different, its engine is bigger and more powerful, the rear legroom is better because the seat is further back. Just to smooth out the range, Fiat also created a half-way model, the 124 S, with a 1.4 litre and quad headlamps. In 1970, the 124 saloon was given a slight makeover, with a revised grille and flat door handles, only to be abandoned in 1974.
Not included: Bulgarian, Egyptian, Yugoslavian and German versions (source: veteranzhiguli.hu)
But this was just the beginning of the many foreign derivatives that Fiat had been sowing across the globe. These foreign 124/125s took parts from all three of these original Italian models over the next four decades, so that it’s pretty damned impossible to say whether the Polish Polski, the Indian Premier, the Soviet Lada or the Turkish Tofaş ought to be counted as 124 berlinas ameliorated with 125 bits or 125 clones masquerading as 124s. It’s an interesting semantic conundrum, but ultimately, it could be argued that the 124/125 is like the Citroën Traction Avant or the VW Beetle: folks who know these cars well can tell models apart, but for the rest of us, it looks like the same car with a few changes here and there.
Of course, most of the 20 million or so cars that used this classic three-box shape were made on the Volga and never wore a Fiat badge. In fact, I cannot remember seeing a Fiat 124 saloon in the wild ever – most were probably devoured by the tin worm long before my time. How this one is still out and about is something of a mystery to me, but it makes sense that it’s not a Lada. Thailand was not on the friendliest terms with the USSR back in the day, so I guess they were never sold here. I have certainly never seen any Soviet / Russian metal here, unlike in other Southeast Asian countries.
Like many old cars I’ve seen around the region, this one has had a few odd mods. For once, there was little to fault on the outside – except those horrid rear-view mirrors. But the dash seems like it came from a completely different car. I could not get a clear shot of it, but on the glove box lid there was a Suzuki script. I’m not too good on Suzuki dashboards, but maybe someone can identify it. The steering wheel looks somewhat early ‘80s Toyota to me…
Is there a Fiat 1.2 under that tired hood? I haven’t the foggiest. Could well be, as the motor was probably the most durable part of the whole car. The chassis and suspension are pretty tough too. A good old live axle with coil springs was just the ticket – simple, yet well designed. Just like the body, really, which has a sort of minimalist Italian zen feel to it. Nothing out of place. Round headlamps and simple grille, boxy greenhouse for maximum capacity, ditto the rear. No frills or quirks, zero Baroque ornaments and nothing to offend – nor endear. Result: European Car of the Year in 1967 and licensed production in over a dozen countries.
Well played, Fiat. Well played.
It wasn’t necessarily going to play out that way. By the mid-‘60s, Fiat were in a transitional phase, being one of the few automakers to manufacture the three main layouts (rear engine, RWD and FWD) simultaneously. The rear-engined cars were already beginning to look passé, but not yet completely hopeless. FWD was still viewed with some suspicion by Fiat’s decision-makers, who had launched the Autobianchi Primula with more prudence than enthusiasm. Out of this confusion, the tried and true RWD 124/125 emerged to give Fiat’s mid-range a modicum of clarity and stability. The success of the FWD 127 and 128 in the early ‘70s European market tipped the balance towards front-drive, but the global market was far more impressed with Fiat’s RWD and rear engine designs.
Above: 124s by PF, Savio, Vignale, Bertone, Touring, Moretti, Lombardi; below: factory wagon
I didn’t even go into the myriad of derivatives that the 124 / 125 spawned – the evergreen PininFarina roadster, the ubiquitous “Kalinka” wagon and the long list of Italian coachbuilt specials that used the Fiat’s well-worn mechanicals, though the PF coupe and spider did crank it up to a DOHC with 1.6 and 1.8 litres. Quite the Stakhanovist, our little Fiat.
Going back to the original berlina – well, as original as this one is, anyway – is the best way to marvel at this most international of Italian creations. I’m not 100% sure that it’s completely out of production yet, as it seems a trickle were still being assembled, using Lada CKD kits, in Egypt as late as 2016.
So if we tot up the whole lot, Fiats, Seats, Ladas and Polskis and whatnots, how close are we to the VW Type 1’s alleged all-time production record of 21.5 million? Pretty damn close, I’d say. Here’s one road cockroach that’s never going away in our lifetimes. And judging by the amount of CC posts related to it (though mostly the two-door exotic versions), it’ll be back on these pages at some point in the 2020s as well.
Related posts:
The Fiat 124 Or How I Learned to Hate People, by Geraldo Solis
Cohort Classic: 1972 Seat (Fiat) 124 – One Of The More Significant Cars Of The 20th Century, by PN
Cohort Sighting: Fiat 124 Coupes, by Perry Shoar
CC Vintage: 1977 Fiat 124 Spider: Soup It Up Tony, by Kevin Martin
Curbside Classic: 1979 FIAT Spider 2000 – La Macchina, by Joseph Dennis
Curbside Classic: 1974 Fiat 124 Sport Spider: My Dad’s Last Toy, by Longrooffan
eBay Find: 1988 Lada Signet: I Want a Fiat 124, Only Worse., by Geraldo Solis
Cohort Classic: Polski Fiat 125p Spotted In Chile – A Long Way From Home, by PN
Very rare here, the much more popular twin cam 125 have all but disappeared too, One ultra rare version the 125T (torino motors) version some 68 built survive in small numbers just due to the collectability status they gained early in life, modded to chase down 3.3litre FD Victors and V8 Valiants they were a very fast little weapon with rather good handling, Good find.
The 125’s front suspension as well as the rest of the chassis was completely and utterly different to the 124. It was basically the Fiat 1500 chassis with additional rear track rods.
This modified and extended 1500 floorpan was all clothed in 124 sedan doors and roof, which to the uninitiated made one think there were closely related than they really were.
The 124 suspension and chassis were not particularly strong by the standards of the class. The last of the 124 Sports coupes with the 118hp (double the power of the original 1.2 sedan) 1.8 litre frequently blew their differentials and there were various weakness in the front suspension. The 125, like the 1500 was much tougher in these areas.
The 125’s might have handled better than a Valiant or Victor but it was still limited by its semi elliptic rear suspension. The 124 suspension design facilities better handling and so a 124 Special T 1600 (with hypothetical strengthening) would have been ideal, instead of the 125 Special (which was my first car).
I have not seen one of these in a long, long time. But I can remember them being advertised in magazines.
I have always really liked the shape of these. I have never thought about it but the greenhouse/central section of the body is very similar to the final 1964-66 Studebaker sedans here in the US.
That last picture drives home this car’s scale – it appears no bigger in real life than Honda Fit/Jazz. Which sports a different front bumper design from my own 2007 model.
That Jazz bumper is like my daughter’s old ’06, except that hers was the VTi-R with spoiler and foglamps. Same shape vertical vents around the central opening though.
Last I remember seeing one of these was in the early ’80s in Seattle. It had a FIATSCO vanity license plate.
The Lada-clones were very popular here in the seventies and eighties, for one very obvious reason (just look at the ad).
Price in guilders. Included VAT and a catalytic converter. Excluded delivery costs and an (oh-so-necessary) anti-rust ML treatment.
To put things into perspective: my parents bought a brand new 1979 Ford Fiesta 1300 S, IIRC it was somewhere around 15,000 guilders. ML treatment included.
I remember the Lada Riva being sold new in France in the ’90s cost about FF 50 000, which made it about the same as a base level Peugeot 106 or a Twingo, but it was a lot if car for the money. And the Lada had a 1.5 litre engine when the others were less that one litre.
However, the abysmal quality of the car made it a false economy for most people, so there weren’t that many about. The 4×4 Niva was far more interesting for Froggies, especially those who lived up in the mountains.
Like Stakhanov, the results are disputed.
We had 124’s here, seen largely in more Italian parts of this city, even though those who pined for the homeland largely bought Holdens instead of “thissa bloody rubbish” because they needed to arrive reliably (at work), rather than Arrive.
I like the sedan, though surely wouldn’t have if The Party made it the sole available thing: minimalist chic vs someone else’s miserabilist shit, as it were.
As for the 2-door sport model, I always felt compelled to like it for its many cams and gears and stuff, but never actually really did. Or do. They always look like a cheap, try-hard cousin of an Alfa. Funny, that.
To see one extant and running in Thailand boggles the mind. The large mounds of bog in the panelwork are clearly trying to make a break for freedom from their rustbugged surrounds, but that apart, it’s remarkably intact. I mean, how? They rusted to early deaths in non-tropical, pretty dry old Melbourne!
Btw, what IS this Thai thing of putting the dashes of others onboard? Is it some obscure manifestation of the Aisian thing about losing fascia?
Hehehe… Maybe it’s not so much a “losing fascia” situation as a “slapdash fascia lift”…
These are so ubiquitous as Ladas now (and forever) that it’s almost like “Oh, a Fiat version of the Lada, how quaint”. I do like the wagon version, very attractive.
When I was still in the VW scene, there was a slight trend of transplanting a MkIII dash into a MkII car and not really considered an easy swap (i.e. an impressive accomplishment) although it likely wasn’t too bad being VW-VW. But in Asia it seems normal and no biggie to transplant anything into anything else, across marques, places of origin etc. Impressive.
Oof.
I can’t imagine how much work would be involved swapping dashes between manufacturers.
Several years ago we took a bicycle tour in Turkey. The locally produced 124’s were still a very common site, even more so than the Renault 12, though both were eclipsed by more modern Korean cars, mostly the “UJM’s” that Yohai mentioned recently. Many of the 124’s were clearly restored or at least well-maintained, often modded with loud exhaust, alloy wheels and stickers. In fact, while most motorists were very respectful of us, if I heard a loud fart can approaching, maybe even accompanied by squealing tires on a twisty mountain road, it was invariably an aggressively driven 124 with a young male behind the wheel. Here’s a nice on in Antalya.
I remember a family funeral in the late ’60s, where a seldom seen uncle let me have a drive of his new 124. It was quite a stylish, respectable purchase in those days, and I remember the strong spring-loading of the gearshift to the 3rd/4th plane which I hadn’t encountered before.
In the late ’70s my wifes’ twin brothers had an old 124 for practicing their driving around the country lanes – they were too young to get licences. When they eventually abandoned it at the end of the garden I was able to salvage a surprising number of parts to keep mobile an old 127 that my wife was using.
I have not seen one in the U.K. since the late 70s. The 124 was built in the era of appalling quality Italian steel, and with our miserable climate, most were scrapped by 6 years old with advanced terminal corrosion. The body rusted everywhere.
My dads 124 special t was fully rustproofed on delivery in 1973, it stayed on the road for 15 years, compared to cortina was far better put together and a far better ride and handling
That dash is very familiar to me, having driven behind one for 50,000km or so. Those wiper controls on the left of the instrument binnacle are a giveaway. 🙂 It’s from a first-generation Suzuki Swift. I’d have thought it was too narrow for the 124, but I don’t think Suzuki had a larger car with a similar layout.
Thank you for that, Pete!
Find an unknown 20+ years old dash and someone can ID it in no time. That’s why I love CC!
Found this very nice Kombi in Eisleben, Germany in late 2017. Have a soft spot for these, as a 1974 Fiat 124 4 door sedan served me well, even in big-bumper, smogged US spec. Photo is a Lada.
spent a lot of time in my father’s 124 spyders growing up. 124s were fairly common on the east coast back in the day. 5 speed, tight steering and disk brakes were a revelation. yes, we had japanese cars but nothing short of a bimmer drove like these things. the boxy styling grows on you. unfortunately, so did the rust and the repairs. how the hell anyone could keep one of these alive in humid thailand is beyond me.
The first car in my family was the russian Fiat 124 wagon VAZ 2102 (nobody here called these cars “Lada” – it’s an export name, just “2102” or “dvushka” which means “2 kopeck coin” which is in line with the name for the sedan version VAZ 2101 called “kopeyka” – “1 kopeck coin”), it was almost the same yellowish-beige color (they called it “mustard”). My father bought it in early 80s and it was 5 or 6 years old already. Pretty dependable car i have to say, the quality of soviet-built fiats in 70s was quite good, much better than other domestic marks like Moskvitch or Volga, and they had good rust protection too (but still not enough). Rather elegant car with lively engine (1.2 liter single OHC), quick-shifting gearbox with short stick travel and very good handling too. Despite the fact these cars were engineered by hot Italians it was easy to start the engine in cold weather (much easier than other russian cars) and it can be really cold here near Urals where i live, -30 centigrade or even worse. And it was comfortably warm inside – very, very powerful heater. Probably the best USSR-made car. And they’ve made millions of it, you can call it “soviet Ford T” without any exaggeration.