In fairness, we should note that the Indian government and local authorities did not exactly roll out the red carpet for F1 in 2011, 2012, or 2013. The state of Uttar Pradesh, where the Buddh International Circuit is situated, classified F1 as ‘entertainment’ rather than ‘sport’, thereby depriving the event of tax breaks and athletic subsidies. Labyrinthine bureaucracy, customs wrangles, red tape by the country-mile, and a lack of systematic support all weighed heavily on teams and organisers.
In 2019 Karun Chandhok, who was born in Madras, Tamil Nadu, and like so many sometime F1 drivers is now an F1 pundit, was quoted in this very place – Motor Sport – asserting that unless the Indian government were to change its mindset, a return of F1 to India would be very unlikely. “There were lots of Indian companies who put a bit of money in,” said Chandhok. “If you look at the car manufacturers involved in F1, for them India is a huge growth market. For sponsors, too, India is a great consumer market. It was an important race. It’s just a shame that, financially, the Indian government wasn’t willing to back it.”
In 2023, 10 years after that last Indian Grand Prix, the United Nations estimated that India had become the world’s most populous country, overtaking China, which had topped the UN’s global population rankings ever since it had started declaring them in 1950. As of 2025, the UN estimates India’s population at 1,463,865,525, and China’s at 1,416,096,094. Moreover, India has not only the world’s largest population but also a burgeoning middle class; poverty, yes, but also rapidly improving per capita affluence; global brands hunting growth; and the kind of scientific and engineering talent that could have found inspiration in F1.
The Indian government wasn’t as welcoming as F1 would have liked, but neither did the world championship make a true grass roots effort to make the sport take hold
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According to the Times of India, as reported on October 22, 2025, “India is forecast to be the fastest-growing large economy in the calendar years 2025 and 2026, as per the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), with household incomes, lifestyle aspirations, and financial inclusion combining to fuel a broad-based premiumisation trend across sectors. By the end of this decade, India is expected to surpass Germany, becoming the third-largest economy globally [after the United States and China].”
Why did I write, a few paragraphs above, with regard to the likelihood of future Moroccan, South African, or Rwandan Grands Prix, “I will believe them when I see them”? Well, for a reason similar to why Chandhok said of the Indian Grand Prix, “It’s just a shame that, financially, the Indian government wasn’t willing to back it.”
Let me explain. You will doubtless have noticed that Ntshavheni’s quote about a possible F1 return to Kyalami included the words: “The bid is fully funded by the South African private sector.” And that is the problem: almost all F1 grands prix require, and receive, government support of some kind. Contributions from the private sector are simply not enough. In India’s case, financial realities weighed heavily on its grand prix. Running F1 races is very expensive. The costs of circuit construction, annual hosting fees, logistics, etc, are all hefty. The Indian promoters signed a five-year contract with F1, but they were able to stage their race for only three years.
That shortfall inevitably leads to a hard ‘what if?’ question. What if Ecclestone and co had said, “Yes, we are excited about India, and we will invest effort and resources into making motor sport meaningful there”? What if the Indian government had said, “Yes, we will fund and support our grand prix, we will treat the event as sport, we will build an ecosystem, and we will make it a long-term strategic platform”? But they did not. Instead, the host paid the fee, and F1 moved on. It was transactional, not strategic. My metaphor of ram-raiding is perhaps harsh, but in the sense that F1’s commercial machine extracted value without attempting to build a base, it fits.
Now, 12 years on, public memory of the Indian Grand Prix is variegated. Some Indians still look back fondly at the novelty and the excitement. Others remember the event coming then going, the interval between the going and the coming disappointingly short; the grandstands then falling quiet; and the circuit’s robust promise being sadly unfulfilled.
Ecclestone and co were happy to take India’s race fees, while arguably giving little back
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I attended all three Indian Grands Prix. From a personal point of view, therefore, in writing the above words I have been reminded of the excitement of those weekends: the optimism engendered by our being somewhere new; the sights, the sounds, and the smells; the swell of the crowds in packed grandstands all around; and the thunderous roar of the cars pursuing Red Bull’s Sebastian Vettel, who won all three races, down the long, long straight between Turn 3 and Turn 4. But I also recall a growing awareness, year by year by year, that for many Indians watching the event it was too remote. The spectacle was great, but the connection was not; and the connection is what lasts. The seeds were planted, but the garden was never tended. As a result, the opportunity to turn India into a motor sport powerhouse was frustratingly unrealised.