The day Ecclestone took control of F1

Amid the discussions about Formula 1's future, last weekend's Belgian Grand Prix provided a reminder that there is no substitute for a traditional venue. The fact that the race has survived on the calendar - despite the financial uncertainties that led to its cancellation in 2003 and '06 - is an indication that Bernie Ecclestone is well aware of that. He's always had a soft spot for Spa.

In fact this year marked the 40th anniversary of a Belgian GP that played a significant role in how the sport has unfolded on Ecclestone's watch. It took place not at Spa but at Nivelles, a blandly anonymous venue near Brussels that hosted just two F1 races in its short history. It was the second, held on May 12 1974, that arguably first really opened Bernie's eyes to the commercial possibilities of the sport.

Nivelles came into the equation because of the ongoing safety debate over the original Spa. The Grand Prix Drivers' Association had long been concerned by the circuit, especially in the rain, which led to the race being cancelled in 1969. It was reinstated in '70 after improvements were made, but the drivers were still not happy. At a meeting of the CSI (forerunner of the FIA) in Geneva in March '71 the race was kicked off that year's calendar.

It was clear there would be no reprieve unless major changes were made, and there was a quick response from the government, which backed plans to create a six-mile permanent road circuit, featuring two and a half miles of new road. But it was acknowledged that the project would take several years to complete.

Spa was deemed unsafe following the 1970 Belgian Grand Prix © LAT

There was no alternative venue for 1971, as Zolder - in business since '63 but not yet equipped to deal with a large crowd - was deemed unsuitable. For a while there was even talk of running the '72 Belgian GP at Oulton Park. But a more logical new venue was already under construction.

Nivelles-Baulers was located between the towns of those names, 40 minutes south of Brussels. It had been in the works for several years - the council had agreed to plans in principal in January 1969 - although progress was later slowed when the man who dreamed it up, Yvan Dauriac, was killed in a road accident.

In a portent of what was to come, AUTOSPORT reported in April 1971 that "the real-estate company owning the site now seem to think that they would be better advised to build a housing estate on it". But work did proceed, under the management of construction entrepreneur Robert Benoit, who had signed a 63-year lease with the local authorities.

Featuring a long pit straight, a series of fast curves and a trademark tight hairpin, the 2.3-mile track had been built with safety as a priority - which meant that it was surrounded by the then-unfamiliar sight of acres of run-off, backed by layers of catch fencing. It should have been longer and a little more challenging, but a planned extra loop was never built after the price of the neighbouring land was hiked up.

The venue hosted its first meeting on September 5 1971, with a round of the European Formula Ford championship the highlight. The facilities were far from complete, but the track earned a grand prix date for June 1972.

By way of a build-up in April that year it hosted its second meeting, a round of the European Formula 5000 Championship. The pit buildings were still not finished, and there were also major dramas with ticketing, paddock access and the organisation in general.

In addition AUTOSPORT's Robert Fearnall reported that "not all the locals are happy with the circuit as when we visited a local pub a petition was being handed round, complaining about the noise". Another portent of things to come...

A few lessons were learned, as the subsequent grand prix weekend ran without major dramas, although the lack of any atmosphere was all too apparent. The biggest problem was simple: it wasn't Spa.

By 1973 Zolder had been upgraded sufficiently to enable it to hold that year's Belgian GP as part of a politically expedient deal for the Flemish venue to alternate with its Wallonian counterpart. The race was notable for the way the poorly resurfaced track broke up, precipitating a string of accidents. As a result a return to Nivelles for '74 didn't look like such a bad idea.

Ecclestone took the commercial lead for the other F1 team bosses © LAT

But by now things were in a mess. The organisation had been declared bankrupt by the commercial court, apparently after loans were called in early. Some local interests did not want to see the venture succeed, and had alternative uses in mind for the land, while the noise lobby was also exerting pressure. In February, the Royal Automobile Club de Belgique announced that the race was unlikely to happen.

Meanwhile in his role as head of the constructors' organisation - then known as F1CA - Brabham owner Ecclestone was strengthening his power base as he battled over money with race organisers on behalf of the teams. He was keen to see the Belgian GP go ahead.

Marlboro and Texaco were already backers of the event, but more cash was required, and in March Bernie travelled to Brussels to meet the oil firm's sponsorship boss, John Goossens. Also there were the man from Marlboro parent company Philip Morris, and RACB chief Hubert de Harlez.

The two established sponsors both agreed to pump more money in, but there was still a shortfall. Anticipating that, Goossens had invited Freddy de Dryver, boss of Bang & Olufsen Benelux, who had recently signed an F1/F2 sponsorship deal with Team Surtees.

"My father said, 'OK I'll put the money on the table'," explains Freddy's son Bernard. "'But I need it to be the Bang & Olufsen Belgian GP. I want to be the main sponsor.' There was a small battle between Texaco, Marlboro and the RACB, and my father said, 'I won't pay if you don't agree with my position.' He nearly left the meeting and Bernie said, 'Freddy, sit down.' So they agreed the deal. And the grand prix was on."

The combined budget of the three race backers was now sufficient to pay for the hire of the circuit and the required personnel. AUTOSPORT columnist Paddy McNally later explained that Bernie "still had the constructors to pay, but he had the gate money plus the proceeds of any advertising and programme sales. It seems Bernie offered his fellow constructors a very acceptable deal - they split the profit and shared the risk."

The likes of Colin Chapman, Ken Tyrrell and Teddy Mayer were busy operating their teams, and were not interested in running races, as McNally noted: "It seems that some entrants, unlike their drivers, are men of straw, and not prepared to gamble. So Bernie guaranteed the start and prize money personally."

Thus, more or less by default, Ecclestone found himself the promoter of the 1974 Belgian GP. "It was the last thing they wanted, so I had to do it personally," he recalls.

"Colin and most of them had the attitude: 'We want to race, we don't want to be involved in selling tickets to the public or anything like that.' When I took things over I offered to do everything for the teams, and run everything, and also more or less support them and make sure they got paid properly. And I was going to take 30 per cent of the risk, but they didn't want to do it.

"We got stuck with adopting the position of promoter, collecting what money we could and paying out the teams. We had to find the money to pay for the circuit and everything else, whatever money was floating around. At the time there wasn't much choice. I didn't think... if I thought, I wouldn't have done it."

To help boost public interest Bernie entered a third works Brabham for local hero Teddy Pilette, having secured extra funding from Hitachi.

The weekend was not without its problems. The timekeepers lost the plot in qualifying, generating a grid that put Ferrari's Clay Regazzoni on pole with a lap that even his team admitted was wildly optimistic, while again there were huge issues with credentials and paddock/pitlane access, despite F1CA having recently tried to take control by introducing its own pass system.

Major sponsors got involved in funding the '74 Belgian GP © LAT

An incredible 31 cars - an F1 record to this day - started the race, while the extensive Texaco, Marlboro and Bang & Olufsen signage around the track told its own story.

The important thing for Ecclestone was that 70,000 people bought tickets and programmes: "The teams got paid what they should have got paid. I was committed to do that whatever happened - if we hadn't got any money in I was committed to pay them."

He also made a tidy profit. In McNally's words, Bernie had "scooped the jackpot". McNally also wondered why the RACB had not promoted the race itself, noting, "some people would argue that faint-hearted organisers are playing right into the F1 constructors' hands.

"The constructors have already taken over certain areas of GP organisation, and there are scandalous stories (absolutely unfounded of course) suggesting that they wish to run the whole operation."

It was an accurate prediction from McNally, who would later join forces with Ecclestone, looking after circuit signage, programmes and hospitality via the Allsport concern.

One man who missed out was Freddy de Dryver, as his son recalls: "After the race Bernie went to my father and said, 'Freddy I'll show you what I want to do with F1CA, I need a guy like you with me.' My father said, 'Sorry Bernie, I've got plenty of work, I can't accept.' A few years later he thought, 'Maybe I should have accepted that offer!'"

The journey would take a few years, but wearing the promoter's hat at Nivelles in 1974 was a valuable lesson for Ecclestone. "We didn't know how it worked," he smiles. "We had to learn."