?In today’s world of autonomous cars, keyless ignitions and charging ports, it’s hard to imagine just how big the tiny, two-door Volkswagen Beetle once was.
But in Mexico, where the last Beetle rolled off the production line at Volkswagen’s flagship factory in Puebla in 2003, the plucky car lives on. Reinvented and reinvigorated by its cultural legacy, Mexico is one of the few remaining places where a taste of Beetle-fever still exists.
The car’s curvy, colorful exterior and air-cooled, rear engine propelled it to a level of fame and cult status which no petrol car will achieve again. While fond stories of the lovable vehicle roam in our memories, what was once the world’s best-selling car?has all but disappeared from American roads, consigned to automotive museums and collector’s forecourts.
Patrolling the sprawling streets of Mexico City, traversing hair-raising mountain roads in Oaxaca’s Sierra Norte, and operating as a converted food truck serving Mexican delicacies, the “Vocho,” as the Beetle is known in Mexico, never left the stage.
Moments before he was interrupted by the signature rumble of a Vocho arriving at the largest Volkswagen event in the central Mexican state of Hidalgo, President of the ‘Ixmi Volks Club’, Jesus Delgado told CNN: “When I hear a Vocho’s engine, I see my wife waving goodbye to me on her way to the shops. I see the excitement on my son’s face as I took him for his first driving lesson.” Delgado’s wife died of Covid in 2020, and his sons are all grown up, but according to him, “the emotional memories feel even more real when he’s around the car.”
The first Beetle arrived on Mexican shores in 1954 as part of an exhibition to showcase Germany’s industrial growth. Sales were increasing slowly in the United States, but Volkswagen was battling against post-war anti-German sentiment for the car, which had been conceived under Adolf Hitler’s direction in 1934.
Hitler had entrusted the job of manufacturing a small, affordable car to carmaker Ferdinand Porsche, but the outbreak of World War II halted commercial production. It didn’t restart until 1945, when allied forces discovered the bombed-out remains of a car factory in northern Germany, where a lone Volkswagen Beetle was parked amongst the rubble.
It took a spark of brilliance from Jewish-American advertising executive Julian Koenig for Volkswagen’s tides to change. Alongside his team of sharp-suited Madison Avenue ad-men, he launched their legendary minimalist advertising campaign “Thinking Small”, which shifted the American public away from expensive family wagons to a new reality of small, more fuel-efficient and affordable cars for the masses.
But nobody could have predicted the Beetle’s improbable evolution into a counterculture symbol and talisman of the flower power movement in the US.
As the Vietnam War raged, the Beetle had grown to embody a powerful social movement spawned from anti-war protests across America, and then continued to represent “peace and love” throughout the era, as Beetles arrived in droves at Woodstock Festival 1969. It was an underdog, unapologetically simple and a symbol of anti-capitalist structures lovingly embraced by hippie countercultures. It had, in many ways, grown to represent everything that Nazi Germany would have hated.
A vibrant heritage
By 1972, it was the world’s most-produced car benefiting from the mainstream fame of Disney’s “The Love Bug” and a strong supply chain which included a new factory in Puebla, Mexico, from where it was shipped around the world.
By the time Volkswagen called time on the car’s production in 2003 due to declining sales and a desire to build more modern alternatives, the Beetle had been manufactured in Mexico for more years than it had in Germany.
Shortly after the announcement, BBC News reported that “it has become obvious that its heritage will remain vibrant.”
But since then, tougher air pollution laws and rising fuel costs have gradually taken it off the roads of Europe and in the United States, where the car is serving its final stately chapter away from the public eye, holding its own as a toy for the rich and famous.
Actor, Chris Pratt restored his own 1965 Beetle back in 2016 describing it “as a dream to roll through the Hollywood hills in.” In the same year, comedian, Jerry Seinfeld sold his white 1960 model, equipped with a 36hp engine for $121,000, setting a world record for a Beetle sale. Three years later, fellow Hollywood star, Ewan McGregor spent over $30,000 to convert his Beetle to become fully electric.
But in Mexico, you’re never far from catching a glimpse of the original car signature’s curves and rear engine growl.
Jose Luis, who has been restoring Vochos for 40 years, described how he was “deeply saddened” when the decision was made to stop producing the car. He argued, that “although parts are now more expensive and much harder to find, the appetite for people to own and drive them in Mexico remains unchanged.”
For world-renowned Mexican visual artist, Betsabeé Romero, the car has been instrumental in her career. In her studio in the outskirts of Mexico City, Romero is perched next to one of five hollowed out Vocho shells she will shortly meld together to create a bridge representing the migrant journey.
“The Vocho is a symbol of our heritage and one we can all relate to,” she said. “Every car is a piece of design history; it is uniquely democratic… Many people might have a favorite building but not know the architect or enjoy a style of art but couldn’t tell you about who or when it was created. That’s not the case with the car. We all have a favorite, and we each have a story to tell about it.”
Modern carmakers face a huge challenge in creating a car which can garner a similar level of global attention, but whether it will ever be possible to recreate the Volkswagen Beetle’s unparalleled cult-status remains to be seen.