Suzuki Alto FX
Lili Holdstock's Alto FX is a fantastic car in its own right, but also a fascinating insight into how Suzuki started carving a niche for itself in the worldwide automotive market.
Rare survivor of a model that helped Suzuki carve out an automotive niche.
It was my dad who started my interest in classic cars,’ remarks Lili Holdstock, a 19-year- old enthusiast from Kent. She learned to drive in a Series II Polo and currently owns a 1984 Polo 'Breadvan' – her third example already!
Another member of her fleet is one of just a handful of Series One Suzuki Altos in the UK. GOT 344X was discovered in December last year on the Facebook marketplace by a friend of hers who buys and sells cars. Lili made the journey and drove in the VW to Worthing to have a look, even though she was not initially too keen on the idea of the Suzuki as she’d never heard of the Alto.
However, when the vendor threw open the garage doors, she instantly fell in love with it. Such a reaction is quite understandable, as the firstgeneration Alto is a rather beguiling vehicle. Firstly, there is that unmistakable engine note. Lili was told by the vendor that it sounded like a bees' nest, but when accelerating, the motor actually resembles several hornets trapped within a turbocharged washing machine.
Secondly, there is the delightfully early 1980s interior décor, from the tweedy upholstery to acres of grey plastic reminiscent of a slip- on loafer. For those enthusiasts of a certain age, opening the doors of the Suzuki is as evocative of a lost world as ageing punk rockers crowded into a Wimpy Bar, Kevin Turvey and Prince Charming blaring from the Our Price Records. The cabin also boasts a number of thoughtful touches, such as a releasecontrol for the hatchback by the driver’s right foot. Thirdly, the Alto is not so much diminutive as Lilliputian, the side doors crammed within a wheelbase just over seven feet long. Suzuki assured British customers that an Alto was ‘by no means a car for midgets,’ but GOT is definitely not built to carry five adults. When conveying a tall driver and front passenger, it does help if rear seat occupants are Ronnie Corbett sized.
These dimensions reflect Japan’s kei jidosha (or Light Automobile) regulations. In the 1970s the rules stipulated such a vehicle must be under 10ft 6in long and under 4ft 7in wide. In return, the owner gained tax and insurance benefits, plus concessions on some parking regulations. The Japanese government had actually established the Kei class in July 1949 to stimulate the post-war motor industry. The maximum engine size then was just 150cc, but this was raised to 360cc in 1955 when Suzuki introduced the Suzulight, the first ever passenger car in this category. The very popular Fronte small saloon made its bow in 1962, and in the 1970s the company devised the fifth- generation SS30V/40V version as their response to the OPEC oil crisis.
Suzuki intended the new model to appeal to female
motorists, younger drivers and, wearing Alto badges, to overseas sales territories. The Alto debuted in May 1979 at the remarkably low price of 470,000 Yen, making it 20% cheaper than many of its competitors.
This latest Suzuki quickly gained popularity, not least as a second car at a time when one car families were the norm in Japan. Another key to its success was that it was Japan’s first vehicle to retail at one price across the country – until that point, various regions charged different rates to absorb transportation costs. Major export territories for the Alto included Australia and New Zealand, with British sales commencing in August of 1981.
Suzuki GB had begun importing motorcycles in 1963, but the marque was not associated with cars until the mid- engine SC100 Whizzkid coupé of 1979. Dealers initially appeared to face a significant challenge as all other Japanese car manufacturers (except for Isuzu) were already established in this country, offering a choice of several lightweight cars. However, the timing of the Alto’s debut was as perfect as a routine by The Two Ronnies, as a growing number of consumers now preferred to consider a vehicle on its merits rather than its national origins. Early Japanese cars had been regarded as a novelty by the automotive press, and in 1965 Autocar dismissed the Daihatsu Compagno as ' well made but technically unadvanced.' By the early 1980s, the likes of Datsun, Toyota and Honda had so established their reputations in the UK that, to avoid the imposition of import barriers, Japan’s carmakers agreed to a voluntary quota of shipments that limited their sales here to 11% of the domestic market.
Suzuki’s brochure emphasised that the Alto was ideal for drivers with more sense than money, and it looked perfect for the weekly run to Carrefours or Fine Fare. The company imported only the FX version, powered by the 796cc OHC unit with three cylinders, in either four-speed manual or twospeed auto form – the latter was the cheapest automatic car in the UK. Japanese market Altos came in a variety of body styles and engine choices, but British drivers were denied the 539cc unit (which complied with the post-1975 Kei car rules) and, in 1983, a 4WD Alto.
From a dealer’s perspective, the FX’s bodywork was neat and understated, with none of the quasi-American excesses found on Japanese cars of only five
years earlier. Another major virtue was the very creditable 40mpg fuel economy, while the top speed was a respectable 82mph – and all this with 0- 60mph in just 15.8 seconds. Equally importantly, he (it would probably have been 'he' at that time) could promise that the Alto would be as efficient as a Sanyo microwave and thus faultlessly endure the rigours of the daily commute.
Alto sales further benefited from a comparative lack of direct rivals. Neither the Citroën 2CV, the Fiat Panda 45 nor the Renault 4 were town cars per se, while the Fiat 126 lacked a plausible back seat. As for the Lada 1200 and the Polski- Fiat 125p, they were for middleaged types who wished to trade in their 1975 Hillman Hunter. Meanwhile, the Suzuki was ideally suited to the Briton who considered him/ herself as moderately with it – anyone who owned a Sony C7 video-recorder and a Sinclair ZX81 would have been quite at home with the likes of GOT.
The potential Suzuki owner pouring over the various brochures one evening might have considered the Visa Special or Daihatsu Charade, both of which offered five doors. However, the former was too eccentric for many, and the latter cost more than £3000. An entry-level Vauxhall Chevette harked back to the 1970s, and the ES (Economy Special) badge on its bootlid meant social death. Meanwhile, the Ford Fiesta Popular was so sparsely equipped that it boasted a diagonally split dual line braking system, electric engine fan and printed circuit instrument wiring as major features.
By contrast, the Alto’s specification included a cigarette lighter, two-speed wipers, electric washers and a split rear seat, all for just £2675. There was even a radio, and the only extras you might require were a quartz clock for £37.09 and metallic paint for £50. This showroom appeal also swayed owners of the Suzuki’s principle British competitor, the Mini – that may have been one of the few cars to merit the description 'iconic,' but at £2796 for the 1000 City it was more expensive than the Suzuki. Nor was it equipped with fresh air vents, reclining front seats, a water temperature gauge or opening rear windows.
The Mini also lacked the Suzuki’s versatility. The Suzuki sales copy made the pointed observation that it provided four- door luxury for a two- door price. And in 1982 the Mini seemed to be on the verge of demise anyway – in the early 1980s, Leyland’s marketing focus was upon the Metro, and the revival of the older model would not occur until later in the decade. Motor Sport of
October 1984 moaned about the Suzuki's ‘ upholstery of a sick colour,’ but stated that if people tried the FX, many would end their love-affair with the BL Mini. They also noted it was £559 lower in price than the least- costly Austin Metro.
Such virtues did not go unnoticed by British motorists, especially those who had previously endured either deeply unreliable transport
(at best glossing over this by calling it character!) or a typical economy model. Ownership of a new Suzuki meant no more desperate calls to the AA or becoming a regular at your local branch of Unipart. It also meant luxuriating in cloth upholstered decadence and listening to Pete Murray’s House Party on Radio Two as opposed to enduring vinyl trim in a cabin that was about as a welcoming as a BR waiting room.
Autocar of 8th August 1981 cited the Alto as a prime example how the Japanese were able to produce small cars with good performance, comfort and reliability at a competitive price, despite shipping costs and import duties. The Suzuki was less concerned with creating a stir at the A303 branch of Little Chef or arriving in style at the Harvester Inn on a Friday night than with providing dependable and enjoyable transport from
A to B, and owners praised the virtues of its easy gearchange, powerful braking and sheer manoeuvrability.
When the CA71 version succeeded the original SS40 in 1984, the Alto was already a familiar sight on British roads. Alas, as with so many Japanese cars of that era, corrosion was to decimate its ranks, for all its six-year Tuff- Kote Dinal corrosion guarantee. A further threat to its survival rate was, paradoxically, its very efficiency as cars regarded as reliable consumer goods were often discarded after a few years in the manner of an old cooker or refrigerator.
At the end of the 1980s, early Altos were already languishing in the Bargain pages of Exchange & Mart, and today GOT is a rare beast indeed. Over the decades he suffered mixed fortunes, for on the death of his first owner the Alto passed to that gentleman's son and was then left to sit in a garden for five years. It was on its third owner when Lili saw it advertised on Facebook.
Today, the Suzuki looks as though it has emerged from a time warp and is primed for at least 100,000 more miles. As for Ms Holdstock’s first impressions of Suzuki motoring, she said: 'It did not seem very quick as I was used to the Polo. My boyfriend took the wheel when we drove the Alto back from East Sussex, and when we encountered a slight hill on the motorway, the Suzuki could barely make 40mph!’
In fairness, far slower vehicles were often encountered on a British motorway circa 1982, and the Alto was intended to be urban transport. As Lili remarks: ‘Its performance is fine up until the point you encounter a national speed limit.' And the fact that the silver FX is still a very useful runabout is a testament to both Suzuki and the original concept. Lili cannot give enough praise to the Alto’s really light steering and tiny turning circle, adding: 'I’m only used to driving older cars, so I was not fazed by the lack of airconditioning, five gears, electric windows or power steering.’
At the time of our photoshoot the Suzuki had only covered 400 miles since joining the Holdstock collection, but Lili had already used it for work on occasion. Inevitably a significant challenge is finding the spares for such a rare car, especially the body parts. The Alto is also in need of a new driveshaft for, as Lili observes, it literally lost all gears just after it was photographed for the magazine! However, when GOT is restored to full health, the roads of the Home Counties will once more reverberate to that distinctive engine note. And that can only be a good thing because the reaction to the Alto is almost always positive, with plenty of smiles and waves.
That should come as no surprise for it is indeed a car with industrial levels of charm. Plus, over the past 20 years Japanese cars have finally started receiving the attention they deserve from the classic world. Lili’s Alto is a fascinating reminder not just of the sheer remoteness of 1982, but of one of the most important vehicles to leave the Suzuki factory. The marque name is now established around the world, but 38 years ago an FX would have tempted a former GS850 rider and Chrysler Sunbeam L owner alike. Of course, the curtains of certain neighbours may well have started twitching on seeing one of those Japanese cars on your driveway, but they were probably just envious.