Mohammed Ben Sulayem has been called a reactionary and an authoritarian centraliser. Yet during his FIA presidency, Formula 1 has opened the door to an 11th team, begun seriously discussing a simpler future engine concept and seen the governing body return to stronger financial health. Perhaps the question is no longer simply what Mohammed Ben Sulayem did, but why so many of his interventions were treated as inherently backward-looking.
There is something in Formula 1 that can sometimes appear even more untouchable than the regulations themselves: the convictions of those running the sport. Among them, one idea has almost become an article of faith over the years – that Mohammed Ben Sulayem represents the great reactionary force of modern motorsport. The man who wants to turn the clock back. The centraliser.
The FIA president who insists on intervening in areas where, apparently, the FIA is not supposed to intervene. It has been a convenient portrayal, helped in no small part by the many controversies that have accompanied his presidency and which cannot simply be ignored. But when the consequences of his decisions are examined, that portrayal begins to look considerably less straightforward.
The controversies remain legitimate subjects for discussion, as does the leadership style of Mohammed Ben Sulayem. Recent disputes surrounding the FIA president have continued to generate debate over his management of the governing body. But separating those controversies from the consequences of specific decisions produces a more complicated picture than the simple label of “reactionary” suggests.
While Mohammed Ben Sulayem was repeatedly portrayed as the man threatening Formula 1’s established balance, he also did something that a genuinely open sporting system should theoretically permit: he questioned arrangements that had begun to seem permanent.
This is not an argument about personality, popularity or whether every controversy surrounding his presidency should be forgotten. It is about examining decisions and their consequences. And those consequences tell a more uncomfortable story for anyone who has preferred to define Mohammed Ben Sulayem exclusively through the most controversial parts of his tenure.
The 11th team: when Formula 1 discovered the rules were not merely advice
Consider the Andretti affair. For a period, Formula 1 found itself in an almost surreal position. A world championship that had built much of its image around competition, international expansion, new manufacturers and increasing commercial value suddenly became remarkably cautious when somebody actually wanted to join.
An 11th team? Apparently that required considerable hesitation. Ten teams worked perfectly well. Nine would presumably have caused problems, while twelve might have threatened the established order. Yet somehow, eleven appeared particularly disruptive.
Michael Andretti submitted an application. There was a procedure, there were regulations and there was a proposed project. On the other side, however, was a championship that had found an extraordinarily convenient economic equilibrium: ten teams, ten shares of the commercial pie and very little incentive to invite another guest to the table.
Why divide the proceeds further when the existing arrangement was already working so well for those inside it?
Liberty Media and Formula One Management defended their commercial model, while most existing teams showed little enthusiasm for opening the door. After years of building the value of their franchises, another entrant inevitably meant changing economic and competitive arrangements that were extremely favourable to the established ten.
Formula 1 therefore found itself in the peculiar position of appearing reluctant to expand the field in a motor racing championship. The debate has not completely disappeared either, with discussion now extending to the possibility of whether Formula 1 could eventually expand beyond eleven teams.
Mohammed Ben Sulayem was one of the figures who consistently supported the Andretti application and stressed that Formula 1 could not simply be treated as the private property of those already occupying garages in the paddock. His position was that procedures, rules and commitments existed, and could not simply be interpreted according to whether they suited the incumbent competitors.
Andretti eventually became Cadillac and, with General Motors behind the programme, Formula 1’s 11th team became reality.
Naturally, the process was far more complicated than one person’s intervention. Cadillac’s arrival cannot reasonably be attributed exclusively to Mohammed Ben Sulayem. Formula One Management, General Motors and the other parties involved all played essential roles in the eventual agreement.
Yet without the FIA’s institutional position and the pressure applied by its president, it is difficult to imagine the door opening in quite the same way.
That creates an obvious paradox. A man repeatedly accused of centralising authority became one of the prominent advocates for opening the championship to another competitor. A president described as conservative helped disrupt the conservatism of the existing ten teams. A figure accused of wanting greater control challenged the idea that the economic interests of existing participants should automatically determine who could join them later.
It is an unusual definition of reactionary.
The great offence of wanting a simpler Formula 1 engine
Then comes the second chapter, and the contradiction becomes even more interesting.
For years, Formula 1 described technical progress through an increasingly familiar formula: greater complexity meant a more advanced future. Power units became more sophisticated, electrical systems became increasingly important, costs rose and the architecture became progressively more complicated.
At some point, an F1 power unit began to resemble something designed as much for an aerospace laboratory as for a racing car. Mohammed Ben Sulayem began arguing for something different.
Eight cylinders. Less electrical dependence. Less complexity. Lower costs. Sustainable fuels. Technology still compatible with the energy transition, but without assuming that a Formula 1 car necessarily needed an ever more complicated hybrid system.
For some time, that position was easily portrayed as nostalgic. Now, however, the prospect of a return to V8 engines has become part of a serious discussion about Formula 1’s next technical cycle. The debate has advanced sufficiently for the FIA president to continue pushing the case for future V8 Formula 1 engines.
The 2030 or 2031 period has emerged as a possible horizon for a new regulatory cycle in which the internal-combustion engine could once again account for a significantly greater proportion of total power.
That raises an unavoidable question. Who was really out of step with the direction of the sport: the people insisting that Formula 1 engines needed to become progressively more complicated, or the person arguing that reducing complexity might ultimately help costs, spectacle and the technical identity of Formula 1?
The championship can argue that progress means adding components, software, batteries, systems and enormous development budgets. But once the same championship begins asking how costs can be reduced and how the product can become more recognisable and understandable to supporters, it becomes difficult to ignore the fact that Mohammed Ben Sulayem had already raised precisely those questions.
There is no need to turn the FIA president into a prophet. It is enough to acknowledge that, on certain issues, Mohammed Ben Sulayem anticipated a debate Formula 1 is now being forced to confront.
The FIA’s financial turnaround also belongs in the discussion
There is another element that makes an overall assessment of his presidency more complicated. Mohammed Ben Sulayem inherited an FIA facing financial difficulties and worked during a period in which the federation returned to a positive financial position.
That achievement should form part of any broader assessment of his presidency without automatically becoming an absolution for everything else. It is perfectly possible to criticise the Emirati administrator, debate his management style and challenge individual decisions while also acknowledging tangible outcomes.
That broader governance debate has continued as the FIA has pursued new measures intended to improve transparency and institutional safeguards, while internal changes under the current leadership have also attracted scrutiny.
The point is not that criticism of Mohammed Ben Sulayem suddenly becomes invalid. Quite the opposite. The controversies, institutional disputes and questions surrounding the way power has been exercised remain part of the record and should be examined as such.
But journalism also requires recognising the outcomes that do not fit neatly into the established narrative.
Why the simple ‘reactionary’ label no longer tells the whole story
That is why describing Mohammed Ben Sulayem simply as a reactionary is becoming increasingly difficult to sustain as a complete characterisation of his presidency.
Reactionaries normally defend the status quo. Mohammed Ben Sulayem repeatedly disturbed it.
He disturbed the club of ten teams. He challenged the assumption that Formula 1 power units must inevitably become ever more complicated. He interfered with established economic arrangements and challenged a championship that, at times, appeared to confuse exclusivity with the interests of the sport itself.
Perhaps that disruption, rather than the simple fact that Mohammed Ben Sulayem possessed significant institutional power, explains part of the hostility surrounding him.
Power rarely attracts the same degree of outrage when it is used to preserve exactly what already exists. It becomes considerably more controversial when somebody uses it to open a door that others would prefer to keep closed.
None of this means the internal exercise of FIA authority should escape scrutiny. Changes within the federation under Mohammed Ben Sulayem have themselves remained contentious, including senior personnel changes inside the FIA.
In several years, Formula 1 will be in a much better position to judge the legacy of Mohammed Ben Sulayem. His controversies will be remembered, as they should be. So will his political battles within motorsport, the institutional confrontations, the decisions that appeared heavy-handed and the occasions when his methods invited legitimate criticism.
But the same record may also include an 11-team Formula 1 grid, a future generation of simpler engines and an FIA operating from a stronger financial position.
If that is how events develop, one of the great ironies of contemporary Formula 1 may be that the man so often accused of wanting to drag motorsport backwards is remembered, at least in part, for forcing it to move.
Not necessarily in exactly the direction he wanted. Not always with elegance. Certainly not without mistakes. But the established order moved.
While Liberty Media protected the commercial structure, existing teams protected their share of it and Formula 1 spent considerable time explaining why ten teams were sufficient for the championship’s future, the supposed reactionary continued knocking on the door.
Eventually, that door opened.
Perhaps the more interesting question now is not why Mohammed Ben Sulayem knocked so insistently, but why so many people on the other side appeared so determined not to open it.
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