Four Decades Ago, Mexico Got A Special Grand Wagoneer With A Weird Engine You’ve Never Heard Of

Jeep is a brand with a storied and well-documented history. There are diehard fans that can rattle off every engine ever sold in a flat-fender, or recite the differential options available on the XJ on a year by year basis. And yet, there’s one Jeep that is barely documented or discussed at all—a Grand Wagoneer that actually wasn’t really built by Jeep at all.

Weird things happen when a far-off company starts building cars under license. Suddenly, you start getting oddball trims and strange extra features as the company tweaks the design to best suit the needs and tastes of their local market. Sometimes automakers will go so far as to fit completely different engines or drivetrains based on what is most convenient and affordable.

That’s precisely what happened down in Mexico in the mid-1980s. Jeep was still happily churning out copies of the classic Wagoneer, while south of the border, a dying factory was doing much the same. As the production line ground to a halt under tough economic conditions and dwindling parts supplies, one very unique Grand Wagoneer was born, quite unlike any other.

Down Mexico Way

The story of the forgotten Grand Wagoneer begins with VAM, a Mexican automaker seldom known outside the North American nation. First formed as part of privately-owned industrial concern SOMEX in 1946, it was initially branded as Willys Mexicana. The company was responsible for distributing Willys-Overland and AMC product for the Mexican market and building some models under license.

Come 1963, the Mexican government made a push to encourage local vehicle manufacturing, hoping to jumpstart a domestic auto industry of its own. The government came to an agreement with AMC, and Willys Mexicana became Vehículos Automotores Mexicanos, or VAM for short. As part of this development, the company established a fully-fledged factory for manufacturing AMC engines, along with Jeep and Rambler products. Government rules stated the vehicles had to include at least 60% locally-sourced parts. AMC maintained a 40% interest in VAM, but did not manage or otherwise control the Mexican operation.

VAM built local versions of AMC product using a majority of locally sourced components. 

Over the years, VAM’s product lines changed and shifted to follow what AMC was doing in the US. When AMC had a rich range of attractive automobiles on the market, so did VAM. While VAM was largely independent in a manufacturing sense, the company was largely reliant on AMC when it came to actually developing new vehicles. By the late 1970s, the company was making its money selling Gremlins, Javelins, and Pacers, as well as plenty of locally-built Jeep CJ5s and Wagoneers.

Come 1980, Renault took over AMC, picking up its 40% stake in VAM in turn. Two years later, the Mexican economy hit a major recession, with the country and currency in serious turmoil. With auto sales screeching to a halt, VAM filed for bankruptcy and suspended production. By 1983, the company fell under Renault’s control. A trickle of AMC cars flowed out of the company for one more year to make the most of existing parts inventory and deals with suppliers, before production ended once and for all.

While VAM had given up on the AMC models, the company saw that Jeep production continued. However, the VAM plants were underutilized, making Jeep product alone, and the Mexican auto market remained depressed into the late 1980s. By 1987, things reached breaking point. The Mexican government paid Renault $200 million US to fully take over the rest of VAM and assume its debts. Renault would then proceed to shut down the operation for good.

As its days were drawing to a close, one of VAM’s final vehicles in production was its version of the Grand Wagoneer. It decided to go out in a blaze of glory, producing a short final run of the best Jeeps it could possibly put together. Thus was born the 1987 Grand Wagoneer Ambassador, a stylish dying gasp from a factory soon to close.

This rare example of the Ambassador was up for sale at a Mexican classic car dealer in 2022. El Unicornio, indeed.

Unlike the hefty Grand Wagoneers of today, The Ambassador was no three-row SUV; in fact, it wouldn’t even seat five. Instead, it came in a more luxurious four-seater configuration. In place of the rear bench, VAM installed a second pair of front seats. It was a savvy parts bin move, but the effect was that the rear passengers effectively got a pair of comfortable captain’s chairs with prodigious legroom.

To further the luxurious feel, VAM created a landau-style roof treatment. This partially covered the rear windows, increasing privacy for the rear passengers.

Propulsion was via a uniquely Mexican engine. VAM had been building licensed copies of the famous AMC inline-six for some time, and had developed its own 282-cubic inch variant in 1971. It was similar to AMC’s own 258 ci. engine, but was cast with a slightly larger bore, taking displacement from 4.2 liters up to 4.6 liters.

Produced solely in VAM’s own engine plant in Lerma, Mexico, the 4.6-liter put out 129 horsepower and 218 pound-feet of torque. It was specifically tuned to run on the lower-octane gasoline that had become common in Mexico at the time. This was VAM’s top engine spec—the Mexican automaker hadn’t deigned to explore V8 options in the 1980s. In the Ambassador, it was paired with a three-speed automatic driving the Jeep’s four-wheel-drive system.

The production run was strictly limited; most sources agree that somewhere between 10 and 30 examples were built. The Ambassador was available in just two colors—black, or white. As you’d expect, they were optioned to the nines. Buyers of the last edition got an AM/FM stereo, air conditioning, chrome rooftop luggage racks, power windows, power locks, and power mirrors—all the equipment VAM had on hand.

As is the way, VAM also saw fit to pepper the body and interior with a number of “Ambassador” badges to make sure you knew you had something special. Most surviving examples also wear a stylish disc-style wheel and whitewall tires.

To this day, the Ambassador is revered for being a shining end to the VAM era. Still, it’s mostly remembered in Mexico alone. In part, it’s because VAM was little-known outside of its home country. Beyond the unusual seating configuration, too, the Ambassador isn’t a particularly outstanding trim of the Grand Wagoneer. While nicely equipped, it ultimately couldn’t match the American-built Grand Wagoneers from the end of the AMC era in 1987, which featured a gruntier 160 horsepower from the 5.9-liter AMC 360 V8.

The Ambassador is a special sort of holy grail. As a vehicle, it’s not a particularly exceptional Grand Wagoneer. It’s not the fastest, most powerful, or greatest—but it is highly unique. Ultimately, though, it’s most important because of its place in history. It stands as a monument to all the hard work and craft that everyone put in at Vehículos Automotores Mexicanos, and lives on as a running reminder of what was achieved there.

Not every automotive story has a happy ending. There are a great many more failures and closures than victories when you stretch the timeline long enough. In the end, once the factories are shuttered and the dealership signs are painted over, it’s the cars that survive. The Ambassador is one of them. The Ambassador remembers.

Image credits: VAM, Jeep, NetMotors Garage de Clasicos via YouTube screenshot, Mecum Auctions via auction listing