For the F1 Heavyweight Championship of the World

Balestre and Ecclestone by Richard Seymour

Whether we admit it or not, we all like to see a good fight. From schoolyard scraps to more serious encounters, the fascination of wanting to know who will come out on top is compelling. However, our collective attention is never more captured than when the heavyweights roll up their sleeves and stand toe to toe.

In Bernie Ecclestone and Jean Marie Balestre, Formula One offered two of world sports' biggest punchers. Balestre, head of FISA - autocrat and ruler - and Ecclestone, head of FOCA - businessman and schemer - circled each other uneasily, jabbing speculatively and stepping from one stance to the next until the first blow to the body was struck; a blow which was to wind the sport and bring it to its knees.

In attempting to determine the cause of this dispute it is necessary to know your sources, since this issue split Formula One into two emotive camps. For those too young to remember - it should be recognised that Formula One was ripped in two. To say the very future of the sport itself was in considerable jeopardy is not to underestimate the seriousness of the situation.

The Spanish Grand Prix of 1980 ran with a depleted field. Ferrari, Alfa Romeo and Renault (all affiliated to FISA) were absent and the possibility of two separate championships running parallel to each other was being seriously discussed. Few serious thinkers doubted that such a turn of events would be disastrous and compromises were sought but initially, none were given.

Now, some twenty years later, and with the wonderful benefit of hindsight the quarrel is clearer. Bernie Ecclestone emerged as leader of FOCA during the 1970's. The ever-increasing sums of television money that everyone benefited from were largely the result of his foresight and effort. Not unreasonably, FOCA and their teams demanded a fairer share of this money and more say in the running of the sport. Though rules and regulations were not the business of FOCA to decide it was on this area that FISA felt their authority was being undermined.

When FISA made it their aim to ban the aerodynamic aid known as 'skirts' they were accused by Ecclestone of doing so at the behest of Ferrari, Alfa Romeo and Renault. This was political manoeuvring at its dirtiest. Skirts (which were used to effectively suck the cars to the road) were, by anyone's measure, dangerous. The corner entry speeds for cars of that year were frightening, and placed sometimes intolerable strain on the cars' components, including the suspension and the drivers themselves. The most distressing aspect of a skirted car is that at the point it begins to slide the aerodynamic effect vanishes. This causes it to hurtle across the road and sand trap like a stone skipping across water and slam into the tyre wall at an undiminished speed. Nevertheless, if the drivers who were under contract to teams loyal to FOCA been allowed to say so, each of them would have liked to see the back of them, no matter who it favoured.

Balestre - who had been appointed FISA president the previous year, was tired of seeing the power of the governing body being eroded and refused to concede any more ground. Jody Scheckter - then at Ferrari and the reigning world champion - believed Balestre to be making the right move. His view was that Formula One could only operate with one leader. Balestre, in his opinion, was merely attempting to bring some sense of order to a sport that was becoming increasingly divided and acrimonious.

Most saw Ecclestone as an opportunist and a troublemaker. The teams that followed him did so because the road he led them down was paved with gold. Even those who speak now of Ecclestone's ruthlessness cannot know how far he would have taken his threat to form a break-away formula of his own. Certainly, the threat had substance and was taken seriously. Moreover, the sport, which was not as established in the early days of its television coverage as it is now, was losing credibility and a solution had to be found.

While races were boycotted for all manner of reasons, the rules put in place to appease the agitators were cynically bent and broken by otherwise serious designers, and those following the sport fell into despair.

Ill feeling followed bitterness with apparently no end in sight. Perhaps the protagonists looked about them and realised if they were not careful, there would be little left of Formula One to preside over? Whatever the motivating factor, Bernie Ecclestone and Jean Marie Balestre formed (after many false dawns) the Concorde Agreement; an agreement that - in a different incarnation - stands to this day. With that, the dust settled and normal hostilities, this time on the track, resumed.

Speaking in 2000, it can be said perhaps the most significant factor to arise from that dark period (though largely un-noticed at the time) was the emergence of Ecclestone's friend - Max Mosley. Mosley succeeded Balestre to the presidency of FIA and Bernie's 'Trojan Horse' was in place. It was Mosley who handed Ecclestone the opportunity to exploit the vast commercial rights that the Formula One World Championship affords: a decision which caught the attention of the European Union and - on occasion - the teams.

So the evidence shows that Bernie Ecclestone won this battle. The money he undoubtedly attracted to the sport is something Formula One will always be grateful for. However, after the power struggle of the early eighties, it is the fact Formula One exists at all that we all should be truly thankful for.

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