BMW 2600L vs Borgward P100: Munich meets Bremen

By Martin Buckley

| 10 Feb 2025

Classic & Sports Car – BMW 2600L vs Borgward P100: Munich meets Bremen

A variety of myths, rumours and conspiracy theories surround the circumstances that led to the premature demise of Borgward in 1961, but it has always been fairly clear to me that the Bremen-based firm provided the template for what BMW was to become in the ’60s: a purveyor of sporty, high-quality, middle-class saloons that trod a careful line between mass-market and specialist appeal.

That Carl Borgward had a natural instinct for what was required is best seen in the highly successful Isabella, a compact and lusty saloon which showed that practicality, performance and refinement were not incompatible qualities in a 1.5-litre family car that was both nicely finished and fun to drive.

Mercedes-Benz produced nothing like it and BMW showed few signs of doing so.

The BMW 2600L sports the Bavarian marque’s trademark twin-kidney grille

The easily distracted Borgward tended to spread himself rather too thinly over too many products: he dabbled in helicopter manufacture, fuel injection and automatic transmissions, plus small cars under the Goliath/Hansa/Lloyd brands.

The Bavarians, meanwhile, were floundering by building vehicles of insufficient variety: bubble cars and V8 luxury machines made strange bedfellows.

Enter Herbert Quandt, the financier who saved BMW and was astute enough to recognise that Borgward represented the greatest threat to the firm’s future success.

When quality problems with the ambitiously engineered Lloyd Arabella caused Borgward to seek some assistance from the Bremen state government to secure bank loans, it was rumoured that Quandt did everything in his power to hinder the rescue.

The Borgward P100 was a practical saloon that appealed to enthusiasts

In fact, negative articles in the German mainstream press about Borgward’s financial behaviour probably did the job for him.

The banks pulled the privately funded Borgward’s line of credit in 1961.

Sales plummeted in this atmosphere of uncertainty, and the local government took control of Borgward that year.

Carl resigned and died two years later, apparently of a broken spirit, just as the plant and machinery to build his cars was being shipped off to Mexico, where Borgwards would continue to be produced until 1970.

The Borgward P100 is fun to drive, while its air springs keep things in check in corners

To the end, this cigar-chomping, self-made tycoon insisted all his bills were paid and the company was solvent: as Germany’s fifth-largest car manufacturer, Borgward was in a much healthier state than BMW before Quandt’s involvement.

While the Bremen factory was turned over to Mercedes truck production, many of the engineers who had been working on the next generation of Borgwards gravitated to Munich: it does not take much of a leap of the imagination to see how the Neue Klasse 1500 of 1961 could have started out as an Isabella replacement.

The short-lived P100, or ‘Big Six’, was more of a challenge to Mercedes than BMW.

It was announced at Frankfurt in 1959 and must have stolen some thunder from the new Heckflosse 220SE; with the 220 in short supply at first, P100 sales were buoyant.

The Borgward P100 has a notchy, column-mounted gearlever

Borgward also doubtless relished beating Mercedes into production with air springs.

Air suspension, in place of coils or leaf springs, was optional at first then standardised in 1960, at the Geneva Salon, although it had proved to be a fleeting and not very reliable gimmick on Cadillacs and other American cars a couple of years previously.

But the Borgward/Firestone system appears to have been at least as durable as the Bosch type used by Mercedes on its 300SE models.

This grosser Borgward used Bosch levelling valves and a pump driven off the crank pulley; the air ‘bags’ were of the rolling type made under Firestone patents.

The Borgward P100’s dinky 13in wheels

The big, five-seater P100, with its two-speed wipers, cigar lighter, and fog and reversing lights as standard, used the same ball-jointed front suspension as the Isabella and a six-cylinder 2240cc engine from the Pullman – actually a six-pot version of the Isabella unit that would take the P100 to 100mph and return 26mpg at 75mph.

The new BMW saloon was first shown as the six-cylinder 501 in 1951.

The five-seater body, with rear-hinged back doors (outlawed in Germany in the early ’60s) and cherubic looks, went under a variety of names depending on the engine and the level of trim.

Between 1952 and ’63, 21,807 were built, including handfuls of specialist coupé and cabriolet versions, mostly by Baur.

The V8 crest on the BMW 2600L

On closer inspection, the multiplicity of names and variants attributed to the shape leaves an impression of deckchairs being rearranged on the Titanic as carburettors and compression ratios were juggled.

For instance, a 501 could be a 2- or 2.2-litre ‘six’, or use a lower-powered 95bhp eight-cylinder engine to become the 501 V8 (simply the BMW 2.6 from ’58).

Individually, the latter variant was the most prolific of these roomy cars following the demise of the 501/6 in 1958.

The 100bhp V8 was first called a 502 2.6, then a 2.6 Luxus and finally the 110bhp 2600L, with disc front brakes.

The Borgward P100 (on right) is very supple and stable. The BMW 2600L rides well, too, but it is less composed under heavy braking

The bored-out, oversquare, 3.2-litre engine was launched as the 120bhp 502 Super in 1955, then renamed simply BMW 3.2 in 1958, by which time it was possible to buy a higher-compression, twin-Solex-equipped 140bhp 3.2 Super.

In 1961 the 3.2 Super became the 3200L or the 160bhp/118mph 3200S, the quickest German production saloon of the early ’60s: with twin Zenith carburettors, it was even 10bhp up on the exotic 507 sports car.

The bigger rear window came in 1955, and the V8s could be identified by front foglights, bootlid badging and their more lavish interior fittings.

BMW was thinking in terms of an American-style, overhead-valve, wedge-head V8 as early as 1949.

The BMW 2600L’s all-alloy, 90° V8 majors on smooth flexibility

All alloy in construction (it was the first mass-produced engine with both aluminium block and heads), with wet liners and pushrod-operated valvegear, this was Germany’s first post-war V8 – which in ‘square’ 2.6-litre/100bhp form would urge the big saloon to an honest ton, with a 70mph third gear.

Pinin Farina was consulted for the styling, but BMW went for an in-house design that seemed to take up where the pre-war 326 had left off, and the steel body was solidly welded to the chassis.

Six-cylinder engines apart, these were all-new cars for 1952, based around a box-section, perimeter-frame chassis with tubular crossmembers, front suspension by wishbones and torsion bars, and a curious form of sector-and-pinion steering gear that turned a vertical shaft to control the steering arms.

‘The BMW 2600L’s boot is not as small as its rounded-off shape suggests and features a possibly unique trapdoor in the lid to get at the fuel filler’

Another engineering oddity was the twin-propshaft drivetrain, which, by means of a shaft between the clutch and the transmission, meant the gearbox could be more freely located to give a clear, flat floor area.

The live rear axle, also on torsion bars, was carefully located by means of an A-frame on the diff casing.

These big, post-war BMW V8 saloons were expensive but beautifully finished, with features such as two-tone horns, a headlight flash on the steering boss and, on some models, an electric radio antenna that powered up when the set was switched on.

Assisted steering and front discs were available early on in the production life of the 3.2/3200 – it was exotic stuff in the ’50s, but hardly enough to justify a £2500 price in the Purchase Tax-loaded UK market.

The BMW 2600L’s neat 180kph speedo

Perhaps hoping to recapture the hearts – and wallets – of the pre-war BMW loyalists, importer AFN brought over a smattering of cars (with right-hand drive and a floor change) but, like Max Hoffman in America, would have been happier selling 507s had the factory been able to build them in meaningful numbers.

This left-hand-drive 1960 2600 was brought into the UK in 1974 and discovered in a London lock-up by its current owner, Darren Sullivan, a Stockwell-based American who has lavished many hours and a not inconsiderable sum getting the car into its present condition, all in the face of general apathy and ignorance of the model.

Darren has invested a lot of effort researching parts and found BMW’s historic division to be fairly clueless: it couldn’t even tell him the name or code of its blue paintwork.

Borgward had the measure of BMW with its P100 rival to the 502, but not for long

Given that only 2500 P100s were built, the revival of this right-hand-drive car by Borgward Drivers’ Club stalwart John Wallis has been relatively effortless in comparison.

It is even possible to buy the Firestone rubber air springs new, and the engine is still tight from a rebuild.

Amazingly, CSV 386 wears the same paintjob it had when I first encountered it in September 1994.

Priced at £2395 in 1961, it is one of maybe 20 P100s brought in by concessionaire Metcalf & Mundy, and has recently been repatriated to the UK after decades in Germany.

The Borgward P100’s badge script is more extravagant than that of the sober BMW V8

Low built, with a generous glass area and dinky 13in wheels, the impressive but hardly pretty P100 is a substantial car with wide-opening doors, plenty of shoulder-, leg- and headroom, and a clean, unpretentious dash that must have been one of the first to adopt standardised European symbols for the functions of its chunky switches.

The rotary control for the heat distribution is of comically large proportions; the boot is massive, too, and everything you can see and touch is nicely but practically finished in a way that was expected of even humble West German cars.

The engine is sweet, free and makes healthy straight-six sounds that put it a cut above everyman ‘sixes’ from Ford, Vauxhall and BMC.

Its best power is delivered quite high in the rev range, but peak torque appears at a not unreasonable 2000rpm and it generally feels stronger than its modest dimensions suggest.

The Borgward P100’s 2240cc ‘six’ likes to rev

Pulling an 18mph-per-1000rpm diff, the 85mph third gear must be a handy overtaking ratio, but we didn’t go above about 60mph in deference to the freshly rebuilt engine.

Inside, you sit on broad, generous front seats holding an equally large and somewhat vertically set steering wheel.

Its circumference is a clue to the amount of effort required at low speeds, although the light clutch and fairly handy turning circle mean this Big Six is not ponderous to manoeuvre.

The slightly notchy column change is not a highlight, but improves with familiarity; the stability and supple ride are excellent, if not quite in the Citroën DS class for opulent comfort, at least at low speeds.

At a faster cruise I doubt there’s much in it.

The chunky central armrest of the Borgward P100’s rear bench seat

The air springs really reveal their advantage in corners, where they arrest body roll very well and by extension mask the worst excesses of the swing-axle rear suspension.

The big Borgward understeers just enough to gain your trust, but it hangs on beautifully without throwing its occupants around by way of extravagant roll angles.

The BMW has a hamster-like visage but is graceful and balanced overall.

The boot is not as small as its rounded-off shape suggests and features a possibly unique trapdoor in the lid to get at the fuel filler.

Hints of Americana abound in the Borgward P100’s styling

Mounted out of harm’s way behind the rear seat, the tank has both a cut-off and a reserve tap.

There is a proud, thoroughbred look to the neatly finished engine bay, complete with fitted tool set, and everything is easy to get at.

On entry, the doors shut behind you with a solid ‘thunk’ that is a shorthand for the whole feel of the car.

The dashboard, with its croissant-shaped speedometer, cream switchgear and metallic fascia, could be from a pre-war 326.

The seats have Continental-style ‘pullman’ cloth covers offering a more commanding driving position than the P100 from behind the inevitable cream steering wheel.

The BMW’s form is conservative rather than forward-thinking, but it is graceful, well crafted and handsomely proportioned

Like the Borgward’s, it is of substantial dimensions but lighter and smoother in action, with good castor return.

The clutch and brakes are also light and the gearchange feels somewhat niftier than that of the P100, despite the complex underfloor mechanism necessary with a column shift working a remotely positioned transmission, although it cannot be rushed.

In many other ways, too, the BMW is not a car to be hurried or handled aggressively. The low-compression V8 has a quiet, gentle idle and good throttle response.

Its peak torque output of 130lb ft is halfway up the usable rev range, so the acceleration in the lower gears feels purposeful rather than truly assertive: it seems natural to loaf along in the flexibly low top gear, in which meaningful lugging power begins at 20mph or less.

The BMW 2600L’s dashboard is dated even for its time

The BMW’s ride is supple and of-a-piece, but it nods its nose maybe a little more than you would like under braking.

It feels quite soft to handle at low speeds, but the steering resists load-up fairly well, so the 502 canters through roundabouts and country road curves on an even keel and at a brisk pace that belies its somewhat matronly outward appearance.

Its steering is not excessively low-geared, and you are never conscious of shuffling the wheel.

These big BMWs exposed the Munich firm’s anxiety to get back to business as usual in the post-war era.

The BMW 2600L’s rear-hinged back doors and well-trimmed bench seat

With no particular glory days to reflect on, Carl Borgward was, by contrast, able to approach the idea of a modern German luxury car with fresh eyes: his excellent P100 deserved a kinder fate.

With its low beltline and unitary construction, it was a car that looked towards the 1960s at a time when the contemporary large BMW saloon was still locked into the thinking of the early ’50s.

If the Isabella was a template for the 2002, then it is not hard to visualise the P100 as something of an inspiration for the E3 BMWs, still seven years away from production.

Images: John Bradshaw

Factfiles

BMW 2600L (502 V8)

Sold/number built 1954-’63/5914
Construction steel body, separate chassis
Engine all-alloy 2580cc V8, single Solex carburettor
Max power 100bhp @ 4800rpm
Max torque 130lb ft @ 2500rpm
Transmission four-speed manual, RWD
Suspension: front independent, by wishbones rear live axle; torsion bars, telescopic dampers f/r
Steering pinion and sector
Brakes drums
Length 15ft 6¼in (4731mm)
Width 5ft 10in (1778mm)
Height 5ft (1524mm)
Wheelbase 9ft 3½in (2832mm)
Weight 3024lb (1372kg)
Mpg 16-29
0-60mph 16.8 secs
Top speed 101mph
Price new £2458
Price now £30,000*

Borgward P100

Sold/number built 1959-’61/2530
Construction steel monocoque
Engine iron-block, alloy-head 2240cc straight-six, single Solex carburettor
Max power 100bhp @ 5100rpm
Max torque 116lb ft @ 2000rpm
Transmission four-speed manual, RWD
Suspension independent, at front by double wishbones rear swing axles; air springs, telescopic dampers f/r
Steering roller and segment
Brakes drums, with servo
Length 15ft 5½in (4712mm)
Width 5ft 8in (1727mm)
Height 4ft 8½in (1435mm)
Wheelbase 8ft 8½in (2650mm)
Weight 2862lb (1298kg)
Mpg 16-26
0-60mph 14.6 secs
Top speed 100mph
Price new £2395
Price now £25,000*