III: Game Changer: the E32 750i/750iL
In the mid-1980s, anticipation for BMW’s first twelve-cylinder car was at fever pitch. From the autumn of 1986, the global motoring press swirled with rumors and speculation: for the first time since before World War II, a German automaker was preparing to launch a V12, the erstwhile pinnacle of luxury. By the eve of the Geneva Motor Show in March 1987, BMW had already received more than 3,000 pre-orders for the new 750i and 750iL (short and long wheelbase, only available in the US as the 750iL)—a number that stunned even company executives, signaling a level of pent-up demand that no rival, not Mercedes-Benz, not Jaguar, not even Rolls-Royce or Bentley, could match.
When the covers finally came off on March 5, 1987, the E32 7 Series V12 did not merely fulfill expectations; it left them for dead. Here was not just a new flagship, but a declaration that the old luxury order was over. The 750iL’s 5.0-liter M70 V12 was a marvel of late-twentieth-century engineering: developed entirely from scratch, it featured Alusil-alloy construction, two Bosch Motronic engine management computers—one for each bank—dual throttle bodies, mass airflow sensors, ignition distributors, and full mechanical redundancy. Every major system was duplicated: if one bank failed, the car could limp home on the other, and, as press materials proudly demonstrated, even with one cylinder bank deactivated, the 750iL could still exceed 120 mph.
BMW’s own press officers highlighted the M70’s smoothness with an iconic demonstration at Geneva: a coin balanced on the idling engine, standing perfectly upright, not even trembling as the V12 spun. Observers—including famously skeptical (some might say cynical) German and British journalists—were struck by the engine’s silence and absence of vibration. Contemporary road testers in Auto Motor und Sport, Car and Driver, and Road & Track all recorded interior noise levels at speed (67 dBA at 70 mph) that set a new benchmark, whispering along at highway speeds more silently than even Rolls-Royce’s Silver Spur and Mercedes’ flagship W126 S-Class.
The M70’s technical features—hydraulic lash adjusters, a space-saving simplex roller chain driving both camshafts via an intermediate shaft, identical cylinder heads to minimize complexity, and “ram pipe” intake runners to maximize mid-range torque—were meticulously engineered for both performance and reliability. With 296 horsepower at 5,200 rpm and 332 lb-ft of torque at 4,100 rpm, the new V12 matched or exceeded every contemporary rival in output, while also enabling unheard-of civility: the car’s moderate 8.8:1 compression allowed it to run on regular-grade fuel, and every part was tuned for both durability and whisper-quiet operation.
Compared to its predecessor, the E23 7 Series—a respectable but unremarkable sports sedan—the new 7 was a quantum leap forward. The outgoing 733i and 745i had inline six power, with the turbocharged 745i attempting to keep up with the W126 S-Class’ several V8 offerings. At the time, BMW executives would have fainted merely to hear it mentioned in the same breath as the W126 500SEL.
The 750iL was a different story. Its cutting-edge powerplant, long wheelbase, advanced multilink rear suspension, self-leveling, speed-sensitive Servotronic steering, and full suite of electronic safety and convenience features (ABS, dual airbags, ASC+T traction control, an onboard computer, available car phone, and even fax machine and rear seat refrigerator) established an all-new benchmark.
BMW’s attention to luxury was no less thorough. The 750iL offered automatic climate control, power-adjustable and heated front and rear seats, dual-zone air conditioning, and soft-close doors. In 1988, MotorWeek, called it “the most impressive European luxury sedan yet,” and noted that “anything that couldn’t run away has been covered in leather.”
In the lavish Highline package, a refrigerated compartment between the rear seats was stocked with crystal glasses, and the front seatbacks held folding walnut picnic tables; rear passengers had their own separate mobile telephone, as well as dual-zone rear climate and heated seats (although the latter was standard on the 750iL).
Armored High Security versions provided ballistic protection for heads of state and dignitaries—a role the 750iL would quickly assume across Europe, the Middle East, and Asia.
The reaction from competitors was universal surprise. Mercedes-Benz, having dominated the luxury segment with the W126 S-Class, was so blindsided that it delayed the next-generation S-Class (W140) by years to develop its own V12—finally releasing the 600SEL in 1991. The 750iL offered a level of power and refinement previously reserved only for exotic sports cars as to the former or British stalwarts as to the latter.
At a time when Mercedes-Benz’s W126 S-Class, Rolls-Royce, and Bentley still relied on V8 engines, and Jaguar’s aging XJ12 was the only other V12 sedan available, BMW’s 750iL stood apart. Its electronically limited top speed of 155 mph comfortably exceeded the Jaguar XJ12’s approximately 143 mph and the Bentley Turbo R’s 146 mph. In the 1970s, BMW and other German manufacturers agreed to a voluntary 250 km/h (155 mph) speed limit for their luxury sedans. Porsche declined to join that particular entente.
Without this limiter, the 750iL reportedly could reach around 168 mph, placing it firmly into performance territory traditionally occupied by elite sports cars from Stuttgart, Maranello, and Sant’Agata Bolognese (above). Autocar summarized this breakthrough succinctly in late 1987, stating the 750iL provided “a level of performance that redefines the modern luxury sedan, combining supercar pace with limousine refinement.”
If the E32’s achievement was not already emphatic, BMW’s engineers were busy with even more radical experiments. “Project Goldfisch” remains the most audacious example: a 6.6-liter, 408-horsepower V16 engine—effectively an M70 with four additional cylinders and extensive reinforcement—built and installed in a long-wheelbase E32 prototype in 1988.
The V16’s length necessitated the relocation of the cooling system to the trunk, with prominent rear fender gills for airflow. The result was a car that could reach 174 mph and accelerate to 100 km/h in about six seconds, while weighing just 60 kg more than the standard V12.
A second prototype not only housed the engine without moving the cooling system aft, but also strongly previewed the E38. The license plate: “M GF 1” for Munich Goldfisch 1, is the only hint that this isn’t just another early E38 test mule.
BMW even trial-fitted the V16 into a Bentley Mulsanne, exploring a possible technical partnership, though this never reached production. In the end, BMW’s board decided that unleashing a 16-cylinder sedan would escalate the cylinder-count arms race to absurdity (see below). The Goldfisch prototype remains perhaps the closest any automaker came to a true sixteen-cylinder luxury car until Volkswagen’s Bugatti Veyron two decades later.
Sensing a widening gap and fueled by rumors of Project Goldfisch, panicked Mercedes-Benz engineers embarked on an ambitious 18-cylinder flagship engine project, engineering a modular 8.0‑liter unit (known in development as the M216) by mating three straight‑six engine blocks in a compact W configuration. It was ultimately shelved for the same reasons BMW passed on its V16.
The E32 750iL was not simply a car—it was a global phenomenon. Executives, diplomats, and high-net-worth clients lined up for the privilege, and from 1987 to 1994 BMW sold more than 50,000 V12-powered E32s—an astonishing take-rate for such an expensive variant (the 750iL was over $70,000 in 1987 dollars—nearly $190,000 in 2025). The car’s success instantly positioned BMW atop the global luxury hierarchy, justifying subsequent investments in the E31 8 Series, the even more refined E38 750iL, and the creation of what would become, ultimately, the modern Rolls-Royce V12 flagship.
Critically, the E32 era saw BMW take the lead in both the engineering and cultural arms race of late-twentieth-century luxury. The car’s technical achievement was matched by the deftness of its marketing and its understanding of customer psychology. To own a 750iL was to own the world’s most advanced and luxurious sedan—unquestionably better performance, newer technology, quieter, and more modern than any of the alternatives: The 1981-1991 Mercedes-Benz W126 S-Class, the 1980-1998 twins from Rolls-Royce and Bentley, the 1979-1992 Jaguar XJ12 Series III, and the inexplicable and ridiculous 1976-1990 Aston Martin Lagonda—although if your idea of modern was “spaceship,” the Aston might have had it beat. While Toyota’s Lexus made an admirable effort with its V8-powered LS400 (some would say suspiciously reminiscent of an early draft of the Mercedes W140) it was aimed at the lower end of this group, never intended to compete at the highest levels. In a 1990 Car and Driver test (above) seeking “the best sedan in the world at any price,” the Lexus mustered an admirable third, embarrassing the outrageously expensive Bentley, but coming behind what was soon to be the previous-generation S-Class.
Mercedes did respond, though, and it did so with sturm und drang. The 600SEL answered the E32 750iL’s opening volley, a 5.0 liter SOHC V12, with a 20% larger (6.0 liter) DOHC V12 boasting a correspondingly 20% higher power figure at 389-408 hp depending on market. While it continued Mercedes’ reputation for vault-like solidity, its development had been significantly delayed—some say in response to BMW’s V12 introduction and even the Lexus LS’s introduction—and when it arrived it was the heaviest, although most feature-laden sedan on the market. Additionally, while it gained significant praise in the United States, it was largely shunned by the home market:
In Europe, the W140 S-class can still win you a scowl: Upon its debut in 1991, a critical public believed Mercedes had gone a bit too far. The envious masses had a point. At 231 horsepower, the six-cylinder 300SE/SEL had as much power as the previous-generation’s 500 models, the V-8 400SE/SEL was rated at 282 horsepower, the 500SE/SEL’s V-8 made 322 horsepower, and the range-topping 600SEL, with a 48-valve 6.0-liter V-12, made a whopping 402 horsepower.
Car and Driver, September 2, 2020 S-Class Retrospective.
The Mercedes flagship was nevertheless a tour de force. Its smooth lines and modern design advanced the design narrative from BMW’s then-groundbreaking E32. It delivered more power, but its significant weight (900 pounds heavier than the E32 750iL) and imposing size earned it the nickname “Panzer.” Each automaker had distinct philosophies: BMW offered a sportier, agile interpretation of a V12 sedan, while Mercedes constructed a hushed, luxurious cruiser. Both succeeded on their own terms, collectively reigniting multi-cylinder grandeur in the luxury segment. Credit where credit is due; the E32 immediately looked dated next to the W140 (above). But in less than three years, BMW would answer with a nuclear counterstrike: the iconic E38.