Moskvitch 408 etc.

Moskvitch 408/412/2140
IZh-412 	Moskvitch 408/412/2140
IZh-412
 	
Moskvitch 412 (after 1969 facelift)	Moskvitch 412 (after 1969 facelift)
Type 	Small Family car (C-Segment),
Manifacturer 	AZLK, IZh
Production 	1964 - 1988 (AZLK)
1967 - 2001 (IZh)
Body material 	Stalinium
Body Style 	Too many
Engine 	1360 cc MZMA-408 I4 (50 bhp)
1480 cc UZAM-412 I4 (75 bhp)
Layout 	front-engine; rear-wheel drive
Curb weight 	various
Predcessor 	Moskvitch 402/407/403
Successor 	Moskvitch 2141 Aleko
The Moskvitch 408, also known as the Moskvitch 412 and under a lot of other unnecessarily random numbers, is a compact family car (gym) from the Sayuz produced from 1964 to an unknown year, as these cars were produced in so many confusing variants and upgrades that some say that production ended in 1997, but someone else says that production ended in 2001. Although it is a car originally Eastern provenance, it was produced in unnecessarily many variants, which was quite unusual for a car from a country where one side rules.
==Development==
Development began at the turn of the late 1950s and early 1960s, a time marked by hardship and systemic repression, especially in the Eastern Bloc. While life wasn't exactly rosy on the capitalist side of the Iron Curtain, the workers in the USSR found themselves in a particularly grim situation. Cars, considered a symbol of modernity and progress, were an unreachable dream for the average proletarian. They were reserved for the elite—be it a bourgeois scoundrel dragged off by the KGB, a privileged party functionary from the CPSU, or a general secretary perched atop the pyramid of Soviet power. And for the lucky few who did manage to scrape together enough ration tickets, cars were largely confined to urban centers, leaving the countryside stuck in pre-industrial times.
The Politburo, in a rare moment of populist thought (or fear of rebellion), decided that it was time for the working masses to get behind the wheel of a modern car. Unfortunately, the factories best equipped for such an undertaking—GAZ and ZIL—were too busy fulfilling their "glorious" five-year plans. GAZ churned out rugged trucks for proletarian toil, while ZIL pampered the Communist elite with limousines dripping with irony. Enter MZMA, the Moscow Automotive Plant, known in the West as Moskvitch. MZMA had no choice in the matter—orders came down from the top, and refusal was not an option. Workers were likely reminded that failure to deliver could lead to "reassignment" to Siberian factories with "higher labor demands."
MZMA had some experience with cars, though it was a mixed blessing. Their 400 and 401 models were essentially pre-war Opel Kadetts taken as reparations from Germany. While functional, they were outdated junk by the time they rolled off Soviet production lines. The 402 and 407 models followed—clumsy attempts to modernize the formula. These vehicles, resembling shrunken Volgas, were plagued by reliability issues and became the butt of jokes even among the workers they were intended to serve. It was clear the Soviets needed a fresh start—or at least the illusion of one.
Thus began the development of a new Moskvitch. The designers were handed an impossible brief: create a car that looked modern, worked reliably (by Soviet standards), and could be mass-produced without any advanced tools or materials. Prototypes began to emerge in 1960, with the engineers undoubtedly "motivated" by regular visits from humorless party officials. The car’s design, by pure coincidence of course, bore a striking resemblance to the first-generation Ford Cortina. Any suggestion of plagiarism, however, was met with firm denials and a pointed reminder about the virtues of Soviet originality.
Production, however, did not begin immediately. The 407 and its upgraded sibling, the 403, continued to dominate the assembly lines. These were transitional models with new chassis and engines meant to eventually power the upcoming Moskvitch 408. It wasn’t until September 1964—four long years after the first prototypes—that the 408 finally entered production. Essentially, it was a 403 dressed in new, slightly more angular clothing, but the Soviet press heralded it as a triumph of socialist engineering.
This "modern" car, with its lackluster performance and dubious build quality, would go on to endure for over three decades, rolling off the line in countless variations. It became a fixture on Soviet roads—a testament not to the ingenuity of the workers, but to their resilience in enduring whatever scraps the state handed down.
==408==
The first boxy Moskvitch – but what exactly was it? Official claims on a certain Wikipedia page declare it to be a "small family car," but let’s not kid ourselves. That’s as far from the truth as you can get. In reality, it was a compact, worker-accessible (though definitely not peasant-accessible unless you were a kulakKulak is eastern term for rich farmer, most commonly owning a tractor. Most of "Kulaks" were executed or sent to prison in 1930s in USSR and after WWII in eastern bloc (Soviet satellite states)—unlikely, since kulaks didn’t tend to live long) device of suffering. It was a warning to anyone who dared scrape together their meager savings, only to squander about 30 grueling monthly salaries on this piece of Soviet innovation.
The engine, such as it was, had a displacement of 1,360 cubic centimeters (83 cubic inches) and allegedly produced 50 horsepower. This so-called power unit could propel the car to a staggering top speed of 120 km/h—a feat only achievable under perfect conditions, such as driving downhill with a strong tailwind. Still, it was 15 km/h faster than the older Moskvitch 407, which, in Soviet terms, was a revolution. The car immediately attracted buyers, who either genuinely believed in its potential or had no other choice.
Visually, the Moskvitch 408 wasn’t bad. Its boxy design gave it a surprisingly modern appearance, and from a distance, it even looked dignified. Inside, the "luxury" features were straight out of the Soviet handbook on practical mediocrity. The car came equipped with a manual choke for those frosty mornings, a radio that probably worked when it wasn’t actively protesting against electricity, and a starter motor that had a bad habit of going on strike. Luckily, Moskvitch owners were also provided with a good old-fashioned hand-crank, which added to the charm of communism on wheels.
For those seeking a touch of extravagance, there was the DeLuxe version. It came with a red leatherette interior and a fancy quartet of round headlights at the front. Standard models were less ambitious, featuring just two headlights, presumably to save on precious Soviet glass and electricity.
Under the hood, the Moskvitch followed a tried-and-true setup: the engine sat in the front, powering the rear wheels—occasionally, when it felt like cooperating. This rear-wheel drive system could make driving in snowy conditions a real adventure. Those unlucky enough to lose control might find themselves sliding into the path of a KrAZ truck or, worse, under the tracks of a T-62 tank heading to the annual May Day parade.
Then there were the brakes. All four wheels were equipped with drum brakes, but with a unique Soviet twist—they were made of aluminum. This was a decision born not of engineering logic but ideological pride. The Soviets boasted that they had beaten the decadent West to the punch by introducing aluminum brakes. What they conveniently forgot to mention was that aluminum offered about the same stopping power as wooden blocks, turning the Moskvitch into a speeding metal box with delusions of grandeur.
Despite these quirks—or perhaps because of them—the Moskvitch 408 could seat five brave souls. Of course, there were no seat belts. Seat belts were deemed unnecessary because real Soviet citizens didn’t need safety; they were made of stalinum. The same indestructible material was metaphorically applied to the car’s body, which was so rigid that in an emergency, the Moskvitch could easily double as a nuclear fallout shelter.
The car underwent several updates over the years, most of them cosmetic. Its success was such that it even found its way to Western Europe, with production in Belgium for the capitalist market. There, it was sold as the Scaldia Moskvitch Elite—a name that must have caused more than a few raised eyebrows among unsuspecting Western buyers.
Production of the 408 continued until 1975, when it was replaced by the Moskvitch 2138. The new model was essentially the same car, but with minor updates to the front and rear. The Soviet Union had once again proven that it could repackage old ideas and call them progress.
==412==
Astute comrades quickly noticed that the Moskvitch 408 wasn’t exactly a rocket ship, nor did it satisfy the proletariat's thirst for progress. So, in 1967, a "revolutionary" change occurred: the Moskvitch 408 was gifted a brand-new UZAM-412 engine. This marvel of Soviet engineering had a displacement of 1,480 cubic centimeters (90.3 cubic inches), an overhead camshaft (OHC) design, and bore an uncanny resemblance to the BMW 1500 engine. Coincidence? Sure. And thus, the Moskvitch 412 was born—a "completely new model" that looked almost identical to its predecessor.
What was new about the 412? For starters, the engine produced a mighty 75 horsepower, a significant upgrade from the 408’s rather pitiful output. This newfound power allowed the 412 to reach a blistering top speed of 145 km/h, enabling it to compete with Western cars—on paper, at least. But there was a catch: the heavier engine meant steering became even more of a workout. Soviet workers, however, took this as an opportunity to grow their muscles and solidify their status as superhumans in the eyes of the Motherland.
In 1969, the 412 received a facelift. Gone were the round headlights, replaced by trendy rectangular ones. The front grille was also updated, though it remained ostentatiously chromed—because even in socialism, some bling was apparently necessary.
Braking power was still a joke. Early models (1967-1970) stubbornly retained aluminum drum brakes, which provided all the stopping power of wet cardboard. However, in 1970, the Soviets reluctantly adopted capitalist disc brakes for the front wheels, leaving the rear ones with the same outdated drums. This marginally improved the car’s braking performance, though calling it "adequate" would still be generous.
The price remained consistent with Soviet tradition—about 30 monthly salaries, a sum that ensured only the truly determined could own one. Even then, buyers had to endure long waiting lists. Still, the 412 was undeniably more modern than its predecessor, which made it marginally more desirable.
Surprisingly, the Moskvitch 412 found a niche audience abroad. It was particularly well-received in the People’s Republic of Yorkshire, where miners embraced its utilitarian charm. For the Western market, it was assembled in Belgium at the Scaldia factories.
The 412 wasn’t just a proletarian workhorse; it also had a competitive streak. It performed surprisingly well in rallying, occasionally defeating its capitalist counterparts. Whether this was due to Soviet engineering or sheer luck remains an open question.
After all, the Moskvitch 412 wasn’t just churned out by AZLK (formerly MZMA); it was also manufactured at the IZh factory, better known for making AK-series assault rifles. The main difference? The Moskvitch 412 was arguably more dangerous to operate than any firearm.
In terms of features, the 412 was virtually identical to the 408. You still got the manual choke, the hand-crank starter, and the luxurious leatherette interior in the Deluxe version.
Production at AZLK ended in 1975, but the IZh factory kept the 412 alive for much longer, ensuring that future generations could experience the joys of Soviet motoring.
==2140-Series==
By 1976, the engineers at AZLK had a "brilliant" idea: replace the aging Moskvitch 408 and 412 with the Moskvitch 2138 and 2140, respectively. But calling these vehicles "new models" was a masterclass in Soviet propaganda. These cars were essentially reheated leftovers, with minor cosmetic tweaks to convince the proletariat that progress was being made.
Visually, the 2138 and 2140 had updated front and rear designs. The grille became narrower and made of plastic, with rectangular headlights replacing the previous round ones. The chrome trim, once a hallmark of Soviet opulence, was reduced—because why not jump on the "modern minimalism" bandwagon, even if only superficially? The rear fins, a holdover from the 1950s obsession with rocket-age design, were still present but paired with slightly updated taillights.
#Moskvitch 2138 (1976–1982):
#*Engine: The same old MZMA-408, a 1.36L engine with 50 horsepower.
#*Problem: Underpowered, outdated, and thoroughly unloved. Even by Soviet standards, it was painfully inadequate, leading to its discontinuation after just six years.
#Moskvitch 2140 (1976–1988):
#*Engine: The "mighty" UZAM-412, a 1.48L engine with 75 horsepower.
#*Outcome: Marginally more acceptable, which explains its longer production run of 12 years.
Despite being marketed as completely new, the chassis was lifted straight from the 408 and 412 models, which themselves were based on the even older Moskvitch 403 (produced between 1963–1965). This meant the 2138 and 2140 retained the archaic leaf spring suspension at the rear.
The brakes were slightly more modern, with discs at the front and drums at the back, but steering remained unassisted. This ensured every turn of the wheel continued to provide the kind of upper-body workout that would make any capitalist gym-goer jealous.
The 2138 and 2140 were primarily exported to Soviet satellite states and occasionally to "friendly" nations like Italy. However, by this point, even socialist sympathizers could see through the facade. These cars looked nearly identical to models from 20 years earlier and struggled to compete with more modern offerings like the Lada, which shamelessly stole the Moskvitch's spotlight.
One area that saw genuine change was the interior. The dashboard was redesigned, the steering wheel was new, and—for the first time—headrests were added to the front seats. This was the kind of luxury that could almost distract you from the car’s other shortcomings.
There was even a bizarre variant called the SL, which attempted to emulate Western cars. It featured plastic bumpers and a fully plastic grille, resulting in a vehicle that looked like the unholy offspring of a Moskvitch 408 and a random European hatchback.
In 1986, AZLK introduced the Moskvitch 2141 (Aleko), essentially a knockoff of the Talbot-Simca 1307. However, production of the 2140 limped on until 1988, catering to those who still clung to nostalgia or simply had no other choice. By this time, the Moskvitch brand had been thoroughly eclipsed by Lada, whose cars were more modern, reliable, and desirable.
The Moskvitch 2138 and 2140 serve as reminders of how Soviet ingenuity could stretch outdated designs to their absolute breaking point. While the cars may have looked "new" to the untrained eye, they were little more than relics of a bygone era dressed in slightly fresher clothes.
==IZh==
The IZh factory in Izhevsk, better known for producing the iconic AK rifles and RPK machine guns, ventured into the automotive world in 1967, introducing its own version of the Moskvitch 412, dubbed the IZh-412. On the surface, it was the same car as the Moscow-built Moskvitch 412, but there were key differences that made the Izhevsk variants stand out—though perhaps not always for the better.
When the Moscow AZLK plant gave the 412 a facelift in 1969, switching from round headlights to more "modern" rectangular ones, IZh remained loyal to the original design. This meant that even after the facelift, IZh cars looked like they were frozen in time. These models were easily recognizable as they retained the round headlights, chrome-heavy grille, and overall styling of the pre-1969 412, even as Moscow moved on. For Soviet citizens, it was as though the IZh factory had declared, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it...or innovate it.”
In 1982, IZh finally made some changes, replacing the old chrome grille with a plastic one, perhaps inspired by the global trend of making everything look cheaper but claiming it was “modern.” The updated cars looked like a cross between a Moskvitch and a low-budget European car, resulting in a somewhat awkward aesthetic. This update also came with a new name: the IZh-412-028, a designation as uninspired as the facelift itself.
IZh’s real claim to fame—or infamy—was the sheer variety of configurations it offered. While Moscow focused on sedans, the engineers in Izhevsk took creative liberties, producing a dizzying array of utility vehicles, including:
*Sedans, which were the bread and butter of Soviet families.
*Pick-ups, for the farmer who didn’t quite make it as a collective farm hero.
*Vans, ideal for transporting goods or possibly smuggling cabbages.
*Hatchbacks, because why not?
The hatchback, in particular, raised eyebrows. It was an unusual sight in a country where utilitarian design was the norm, leaving many to wonder who exactly the target audience was.
Mechanically, the IZh-412 was identical to its Moscow counterpart, featuring the UZAM-412 engine with 75 horsepower. It had a top speed of 145 km/h, which sounds impressive until you consider that stopping it was another matter. Early models retained the infamous aluminum drum brakes, which were more of a suggestion than a functional braking system. By 1982, IZh cars came standard with front disc brakes and rear drums, which was technically an improvement, though they still lagged behind Western standards.
As for interior comfort, the IZh-412 offered little innovation. The dashboard remained spartan, and the steering lacked power assistance—ensuring that every trip doubled as a workout. Despite these shortcomings, the cars were durable, cheap, and simple to maintain, which endeared them to their target audience of Soviet workers.
While Moscow’s Moskvitch 412 was exported widely to both Eastern Bloc and some Western markets, the IZh-412 had more limited exposure abroad. It was primarily sold in the Soviet Union and occasionally trickled into Eastern Bloc countries, where it gained a reputation as a robust but outdated alternative to the more modern offerings from Lada.
Despite being hopelessly outdated by the 1980s, the IZh-412 soldiered on. Passenger car production continued until 1997, while utility versions held on until 2001. By this time, the world had long since moved on, but the IZh-412 was a testament to Soviet manufacturing's philosophy of "build it once, then keep building it forever."
Today, the IZh-412 is remembered more for its origins than its performance. Sharing a birthplace with Kalashnikov rifles lent it an air of durability, though it lacked the lethal precision of its firearm siblings. In the end, the IZh-412 was an awkward but enduring piece of Soviet automotive history, a car built for a time and a system that no longer exists.
==Nummerical randomity==
Forget Porsche’s precise engineering or BMW’s meticulous model numbering; Moscvitch played in a league of its own. A glorious league where naming conventions were cobbled together with the reckless abandon of a drunken mathematician armed with a dartboard. Let’s explore the masterpieces of automotive absurdity born from this chaos.
===408:===
It all started with the M-408, a four-door sedan. But why stop at one version when you can unleash a torrent of incomprehensible variants?
*M-408: The basic sedan for your average Comrade Ivan, complete with a bench seat that doubles as an ironing board.
*M-408B: A sedan with hand controls. Perfect for navigating the craters that pass for roads in the Motherland.
*M-408IE: The "modernized" 408. Features may include a slightly shinier dashboard and doors that close on the first try.
*M-408M: Ambulance edition. Because what’s better than saving lives in a car that can barely save itself?
*M-408P: Right-hand drive, for international markets desperate to experience Moscow gridlock in reverse.
*M-408T: Taxi version. Includes upholstery resistant to every known Soviet stain.
*M-426: A five-door wagon, ideal for carrying potato sacks, goats, and crushed dreams.
*M-426P: Like the M-426, but with right-hand drive, presumably for driving on the wrong side of history.
*M-433: A three-door van, because symmetry is bourgeois nonsense.
*M-433P: Again with the right-hand drive! Were they expecting British colonists to buy these things?
===412 (AZLK)===
The 412 took Moscvitch's chaos to new heights, spawning variants with random letters slapped on as though a keyboard had sneezed.
*M-412: The "default" model. It exists. It moves (sometimes). That’s about it.
*M-427: A wagon version for families who wanted to hate long road trips together.
*M-434: A van/pickup hybrid. It’s unclear if anyone knew what they were aiming for here.
===412 (IZh):===
When the AZLK factory wasn’t enough, IZh decided to copy the 412 formula with the precision of a student cheating on a math test.
*IZh-412: Same as the M-412, but with an extra dash of mediocrity.
*IZh-427: It’s a wagon. Again. How many wagons does one country need?
*IZh-2125 Kombi: The Soviet Union’s first hatchback! A car so bold, it dared to challenge aerodynamics... and lost.
*IZh-2715: A panel van so tall, it could double as housing during a Siberian winter.
*IZh-27151: The pickup version. Because why not remove even more structural integrity?
===2140:===
Enter the 2140, the supposed successor to the 412. While it had a new number, the absurdity remained unchanged.
*M-2140 (Moskvitch 1500): The "luxury" sedan with 75 horsepower and the aerodynamics of a brick.
*M-2138 (Moskvitch 1360): An underpowered version for people who thought life wasn’t frustrating enough.
*M-21406: A "rural" version designed for unpaved roads and low-octane fuel. It featured drum brakes, higher suspension, and the soul of a stubborn mule.
*M-21381: The "flying ambulance." It didn’t actually fly, but the suspension might launch you into orbit.
*M-2140-117: The “luxury” model. Luxury meant plastic bumpers and headrests. Truly decadent.
*M-2140 Diesel: For those who thought driving slow and loud was a lifestyle choice.
*M-2136: A wagon so weak it couldn’t pull a toddler in a sled. Quickly retired to save face.
*M-2315: A pickup version of a sedan, created by someone who probably hated their job.
Simply put, if you wanted a Moskvitch, it was a long game of sifting through an unnecessarily large number of variants for a car that was essentially produced without technical changes for 40 years. It’s weird, complicated, and completely unnecessary.
==Legacy==
The Moskvitch, much like communism or Stalin in 1961, met a rather inglorious end. Moskvitches are mocked not only in the West but also in the East. True, it wasn’t the worst car to come out of the USSR—after all, there were gems like the ZAZ 968 Zaporozhets, the SeAZ Invalidka, or the LuAZ. But the Moskvitch was supposed to be a proper ride for the hard-working comrades, a symbol of proletarian pride. Instead, it fell from grace, and unlike the Lada (essentially a heavily reworked FIAT 124), it ended up relegated to the scrap heap of history for most of the world.
Surprisingly, unlike the Lada, the Moskvitch isn’t commonly referred to in the West as one of the worst cars in history. Perhaps that’s because if you asked an American for their opinion on the AZLK M-2140-121, they’d think you were messing with them. Ask them about the Lada, though—a car with just as many ridiculous numeric variantsSuch as VAZ-21011, VAZ-21012 etc...—and they’ll probably say it’s trash.
The Moskvitch remains a forgotten communist relic, one that occasionally benefits from nostalgia in the East, where some enthusiasts still lovingly restore and care for them.
== Notes ==
Category:Cars
Category:Communism
Category:Crap
Category:Stupidity
Category:Weapons