The first shiny new Russian passenger cars rolled off the assembly line last week at the great Fiat-built plant in Togliatti on the Volga. Thus the Soviet Union passed an important milepost on its slow and bumpy journey into the automotive age. The new auto, a four-passenger sedan, is based on the Fiat-124. Its Russian name is Zhiguli, after the rolling hills across the Volga from Togliatti, the city whose name was changed from Stavropol in honor of the late Italian Communist leader.
Since the 124 has already been in production for four years in Italy, the auto would hardly cause a ripple in the West. But in Russia, where there exist only about two million passenger cars, most of which are poorly finished and unimaginative, the Zhiguli is creating a sensation. In Moscow alone, there are 42,000 people on the waiting list for new and used cars of various makes. No new orders are being accepted. The Zhiguli will cost 5,500 rubles ($6,105), which is the equivalent of five years' wages of the average Russian worker.
Midi to Padded Jacket. In its reincarnation as the Zhiguli, the 124 has undergone considerable modification. Among other things, it has been given a sturdier suspension system to survive Russia's potholed roads, and a number of other features, such as a battery that loses little power at 58° F. below zero and warmed door handles, to cope with the bitter cold Russian winters. As an Italian journalist in Moscow put it: "A sexy Italian maiden in a midiskirt and high heels has been sent off into the Russian taiga with boots and padded jacket for a hard day's work."
It has taken quite a while to get the young lady on her way. Originally, the $800 million plant, which was built under Italian supervision and uses almost all Western machinery, was intended to produce 600,000 autos a year by 1970. Because of poor Soviet planning and an inexperienced work force, it will turn out only 20,000 cars by the end of this year, and will not reach full production until 1972.
Actually, it is just as well that the Zhiguli is not coming off the line in greater numbers, for Russia is still woefully unprepared for the impact of the auto. Soviet authorities frankly express their apprehensions. "By 1980, we will be struck by transport paralysis," says A. Zhukovsky, the chief of the Leningrad Transport Department. "Leningrad will have over a half million cars, while road construction is already twelve years behind present needs." Yevgeny Trubitsyn, Minister for Highway Construction of the Russian Republic, summed up: "We are just plain short of roads."
Grandfather's Speed. As yet, the Russians have not even begun to think about drive-ins, roadside restaurants or the other conveniences that are a part of the auto age in the West. In Moscow alone, a city of 7,300,000, there are only 19 repair shops, 105 gas stations and 32 parking lots. "When I need my car fixed, I have to call a plumber," laments one Moscow auto owner.
