Meanwhile, the latest Concorde Agreement — the tri-partite contract which
binds the teams, the governing body and the commercial rights holder — is up
for renewal at the end of the season and Formula One’s owner, private equity
firm CVC Capital Partners, is reviewing its investment.
Ecclestone will be 82 in October. Not many of his vintage are still in gainful
employment let alone running companies turning over in excess of $1bn.
If he is feeling the pressure you would never know it. Ecclestone’s renowned
sang-froid is in full working order as he bats away questions about Bahrain,
where clashes flared up on the anniversary of the government crackdown.
“They [the protesters] don’t need to resort to violence,” he says of security
concerns. “All they need to do is stand on the road on the way to the
circuit, with placards, and they would get their message out there. Nobody’s
going to shoot them.” “If I was the organiser,” he adds,
“I would wait until 4pm or whenever the race starts, blocking the road, a few
thousand of them, and then go home.
“And if they successfully delay the race then they would get more
coverage than they could dream of.”
What about those whose motives are less about ‘getting their message out
there’ and more about destabilising a regime by whatever means necessary?
It’s easy to see why Bahrain needs the race — and it may even do the country
good. But does F1 need Bahrain? All it would take is one suicide bomber, one
death, to render the whole event a catastrophe and leave the sport facing
allegations that it has blood on its hands.
“That’s a danger,” Ecclestone concedes. So? “Nothing you can do about that. It
could happen anytime, anywhere.” Surely, though, it’s more likely in a
country where protesters are already throwing petrol bombs at police? At a
race which activists have vowed to target?
“There are always people threatening,” he shrugs. “I don’t believe the
[organisers] would take a risk if they thought there was a risk. Let’s see.”
Britain’s fourth richest man did not amass his fortune — estimated by Forbes
last year at $4.2bn — by accident. There is a reason for everything
Ecclestone says, and while he may sound casual, there is no doubt he is
taking the issue of Bahrain seriously.
It may be he is playing a high-risk game of poker. By pinning responsibility
on the organisers, many believe he is simply ensuring FOM keeps the
$40million race fee, which has already been banked.
Bahrain may try to sue if Formula One cancels.
Ecclestone does not elaborate. Nor does he mind if people accuse him of a lack
of morals. “I don’t worry because it’s not true,” he says.
In any case, Bahrain is not the only potential roadblock up ahead.
After a delay in proceedings due to the defendant’s ill health, the trial of
Gerhard Gribkowsky is back under way and slated to last until June at least.
The former chairman of Formula One’s holding company was charged last summer
with tax evasion, breach of trust towards his former employer (a state-owned
bank in Bavaria), and being in receipt of corrupt payments — specifically
$44million which came from Ecclestone and his family trust Bambino Holdings
following the last sale of the sport in 2006.
The Munich state prosecutor believes the money was a bribe from Ecclestone to
facilitate the sale to CVC. Ecclestone claims he was “shaken down” by
Gribkowsky. Formula One doesn’t know what to think.
But it is watching closely. If the court finds Gribkowsky guilty of accepting
corrupt payments, it stands to reason the prosecutor may go after Ecclestone
next.
His poker face remains inscrutable as he insists neither he nor CVC have
anything to worry about. “They have already looked into everything,” he
says, referring to an internal review carried out last year.
CVC’s faith in their man will almost certainly be rewarded with the best deal
they can get out of the new Concorde Agreement. Ecclestone looks to have the
teams where he wants them.
There was the usual talk of a breakaway series last year as the Formula One
Teams Association pondered the options available to them post-2012; the
teams briefly mooted the possibility of becoming part-owners themselves.
Ecclestone scoffed.
Then, just before Christmas, Ferrari and Red Bull quit FOTA — ostensibly over
a disagreement regarding cost-cutting — and suddenly Ecclestone is in the
driving seat. Coincidence? Highly unlikely.
Ferrari and Red Bull may already have struck their own deals — it wouldn’t be
the first time for the former — reasoning they can make more money
negotiating on their own.
Ecclestone claims nothing has been agreed yet with anyone. “I’d like to try to
do something before the season starts,” he says. “I don’t want it dragging
on.” He remains utterly scornful of FOTA.
“I mean you know full well those people will never agree on anything. They
keep coming up and saying they’re going to get together and help F1, help
the promoters, rubbish. Ferrari
would never go do a deal with those clowns.”
The espressos have been cleared but Ecclestone seems in no rush to leave. An
hour in his company was described in a recent interview as “like climbing an
extremely steep flight of stairs” but this one has flown by.
Ecclestone can certainly be obstructive — feigning ignorance or answering
questions with questions — but he also possesses a dry wit.
And a temper. Woe betide the Australian MP who called his daughter Tamara a
“billionaire bogan” this week — Aussie slang for a person of limited
education or class.
“I’d like him to say what he said to me face to face,” said Ecclestone, who is
not in Australia for Sunday’s grand prix.
Ecclestone trades off his fearsome reputation. He likes to project an image of
absolute authority.
The reality is that the man who has ruled Formula One for the best part of
three decades will not be around forever. The decision may be taken out of
his hands; if CVC tire of him (“they could get rid of me tomorrow”) or sell
up.
NewsCorp? “100 per cent they were interested,” he says. “If they could have
bought it at 10 per cent of what it’s worth they would have bought it. I did
tell them at the time any price that they negotiated they still wouldn’t get
it because I would buy it.”
Has he spoken to Murdoch about it? He shakes his head.
“He’s been a bit busy lately,” he says referring to the phone-hacking scandal.
“I think they are in bad trouble.”
Ecclestone claims a public flotation in Singapore or Hong Kong would be a
better step for the business and allow CVC to make a complete or partial
exit. Would any new owners want an 81-year-old CEO?
“If it were floated in Asia, yes, because most of the CEOs are about my
age,” he quips.
He gets up to leave. How long can he keep going? Does he feel he is as sharp
as he was 10-20 years ago? “Sharper. More experienced.”
Will he have to be carried out in a box? “Who knows? When I think I should
stop, when I can’t do it well any more, I will stop. Because I would get no
pleasure out of being a failure.”