The 1933 Tripoli Grand Prix should be remembered for a gallant – and ultimately tragic – final drive by that dashing Englishman Sir Henry ‘Tim’ Birkin. Instead it is better known as being the subject of the great Grand Prix fixing scandal, the result of the race allegedly rigged by the leading Italian drivers so that they could profit from the State Lottery.
The newly opened Melaha circuit at Tripoli was 8½ miles (13.7km) long and the fastest in the world. Speeds of up to 140mph (225.3km/h) were commonplace. With Libya then an Italian colony, that great motor racing fan, Mussolini, wanted maximum publicity for the circuit and the race. To this end, Marshal Balbo, the new governor of Libya, organised a national lottery in conjunction with the Grand Prix. Tickets went on sale in Italy months before the race. For the layout of no more than a few lire, there was the prospect of winning seven and a half million lire, the equivalent of around £80,000. This was serious money. Three days before the race, 30 lucky tickets were drawn – one for each of the starters.
On the eve of the race a stout, bald-headed gentleman called at Achille Varzi’s hotel room. He introduced himself as Enrico Rivio, a timber merchant from Pisa, and explained that he had drawn the lottery ticket bearing the number of Varzi’s car. He asked Varzi to win the race. Varzi promised to do his best but was puzzled as to why Signor Rivio had flown all the way from Pisa to Tripoli to make such a basic request. Then Rivio put all his cards on the table: if Varzi won, he could have half of the lottery prize money. Moreover Rivio produced a document to that effect, drawn up by his solicitor. Varzi apparently made no firm promises, but as soon as his unexpected guest had departed, he is said to have telephoned his old adversary but new-found friend, Tazio Nuvolari.
Race day saw temperatures of over 100 degrees in the shade. The new circuit was described as running like a white ribbon between the palm trees and the yellow sand. The grandstand was resplendent with a mixture of Italian officers and Arab sheikhs while nearby, in a special box, sat the 30 people from all walks of life, clutching the slip of paper which could prove their passport to riches. There was a Milan butcher, an old lady from Florence, a student, a baron who had fallen on hard times … and there was Signor Rivio, his bald pate beaded with perspiration, his face ruddy from a combination of the heat and the anticipation.
In a display of pomp and ceremony, Marshal Balbo flagged away the 30 starters, but instead of the expected Italian domination, it was Birkin’s privately entered green Maserati who led them round followed by Nuvolari (Alfa), Giuseppe Campari (Maserati) and Varzi’s Bugatti. On lap five of 30, Campari took the lead and Nuvolari also got past Birkin. At that stage Varzi was already 57 seconds behind the leader. Signor Rivio was observed mopping his brow. By lap 12 Campari was nine seconds ahead of Nuvolari, with Baconin Borzacchini up to third and Birkin hanging on gamely in fourth. Varzi appeared to be making little impact.
On lap 14 Campari came into the pits to refuel, allowing Nuvolari into the lead. Then Campari had to stop again because the Maserati’s oil tank had worked itself loose. He lost 15 minutes while the tank was bound tight with rope and, although he rejoined the race, he dropped out shortly afterwards. He was soon spotted drowning his sorrows with a bottle of Chianti. Meanwhile from second place, Birkin had come in to refuel on lap 16. Maserati had sent only one mechanic to service both Birkin’s car and Campari’s and since the Englishman was a private entry, Campari took precedence and commandeered the mechanic. This left Birkin to enlist the services of a local garageman, who was such a drunk that he spent the entire race asleep under a palm tree. Heroically performing his own pitwork, Birkin lost two places through the prolonged stop, dropping down to fourth.
At two-thirds distance, Nuvolari’s lead had been greatly reduced by Borzacchini with Louis Chiron not far behind in third. Then Varzi made his move, and by lap 25 he was up to third as Chiron and Birkin started to falter. The Bugatti was making ominous noises, however. Two cylinders were dead and the car was slowing. To stop for a change of plugs would have seen the end of any realistic chance he had of winning the race. Signor Rivio must have been about to tear up his ticket, especially with Nuvolari seemingly on the brink of lapping Varzi.
Until now, everything on the track had appeared above board, but the closing laps were decidedly irregular. First, on lap 27, Borzacchini inexplicably slowed and kept looking over his shoulder. Then he cut a corner so fine that he hit one of the empty oil drum markers. The car skidded to a halt with a burst tyre. Borzacchini was out of the race, but appeared none too concerned. Nuvolari began the last lap 30 seconds ahead of Varzi, but with half a mile (0.8km) remaining the Mantuan, too, began looking anxiously over his shoulder. The Alfa slowed alarmingly until, just 100 yards (91.4m) from the finish, it ground to a halt. Nuvolari jumped out and screamed: ‘No petrol! No petrol!’ Mechanics rushed to his assistance, but the delay allowed the ailing Varzi to loom into view. Nuvolari suddenly got going again but not in time to prevent Varzi crossing the line, almost in slow motion, the winner by one-tenth of a second. Exhausted, Varzi was carried shoulder-high by the crowds. Among the first to congratulate him was Signor Rivio. That evening, as Varzi, Nuvolari and Borzacchini sipped the finest champagne, rumours began to circulate that the race had been fixed. These three were named as the prime suspects with Campari and Chiron also suspected of being fringe players. At a hastily convened meeting of the country’s supreme sporting authority the following morning, there were calls for all five to be disqualified and for their competition licences to be withdrawn. The demand was rejected. To have thrown out five of the most famous drivers in Europe might have dealt a fatal blow to the image of motor racing. Instead they escaped with a mild warning. However, in future the lottery system was changed so that ticket numbers were drawn just five minutes before the race when the drivers were already in their cars and were therefore immune to temptation.
If Borzacchini and Campari did profit from the race, they did not enjoy their good fortune for long. Four months later both were killed at the Monza Grand Prix when their cars hit an oil patch dropped by Count Trossi’s Duesenberg on the South Curve.
The controversial Tripoli Grand Prix was also to prove Birkin’s last race. In finishing an honourable third, he had reached out of the Maserati for a cigarette and had burned his arm on the hot exhaust pipe. He paid no attention to the burns until they flared up a few weeks later. Blood poisoning set in and he died on 22 June.