II. Panzer, Klimakiller
When the W140 launched in 1991, it entered a world that had shifted under its wheels. The late 1980s had been boom years, but by 1991 the global economy was in recession, the Soviet Union was dissolving, and the cost of German reunification loomed large. The public mood had turned from celebration to scrutiny. Into this climate rolled a Mercedes sedan weighing nearly 5,000 pounds, powered by a 6.0-liter V12, and carrying a U.S. sticker price north of $130,000.
In Germany, the response was cold. The press called it der Dicke, the fat one, or Panzer, the tank. Environmentalists labeled it a symbol of excess. The newspaper taz called it “the spawn of engineering madness and climate-killer instinct.” Greenpeace built a pyramid of oil barrels at the Frankfurt auto show to dramatize its projected fuel consumption. Sacco’s tall, heavy design was mocked for its stately proportions. Georg Kacher of Car quipped that the Coupé looked “like someone who’s been bashed on the head.” It was not the reception Mercedes had expected.
While the W140 struggled to win over the German public, especially as the country faced the costs of reunification, it found more receptive audiences elsewhere. In the United States, the recession had cooled luxury sales, but the W140 still held appeal. American buyers were less concerned with fuel prices or tight parking and valued size and substance. Competition was fiercer than ever. The Lexus LS400, launched in 1989, offered much of the silence and refinement Mercedes had once claimed exclusively. The W140’s answer was more features, more presence, and the enduring pull of the badge. Buyers could spend close to Rolls-Royce money on a 600 SEL, debadge it, and pass for a 300 SE. Mercedes knew its market. Where BMW kept the 750iL’s V12 cues to a minimum, Mercedes offered a choice: bold V12 badges on the C-pillars for those who wanted to announce it, or none at all for those who preferred discretion.
Asia and the Middle East, both more receptive at the time to conspicuous consumption, embraced the car without reservation. In the Gulf, bigger and more expensive meant better. The 600 SEL became a status symbol for royalty, moguls, and anyone with power to project. In Hong Kong, it was the limousine of choice. In Japan, where taxes punished size and displacement, the W140’s scale became an asset, a rolling declaration of wealth and status. Mercedes even fitted louder horns for the Middle East after complaints that the standard units were too polite for Dubai and Riyadh traffic. The car’s reach was global, and Mercedes tailored it to each market.
In Eastern Europe, the W140 arrived as the Iron Curtain lifted. It became an instant favorite with the newly wealthy. In Russia, Ukraine, and across the Balkans, black 600 SELs with tinted glass became shorthand for power and danger, immortalized in post-Soviet films and television. In cities from Moscow to Bucharest, its mere appearance was enough to part traffic or send a message. This “dark glamour” shaped the car’s reputation in the East, untouchable, imposing, unmistakable.
Over time, backlash faded. Auto Motor und Sport, which had called it “the best car in the world” in 1991, never retracted. Owners prized its ride, isolation at speed, and the way its doors shut like a safe. Critics who once mocked its bulk eventually noted that, compared to today’s SUVs, the W140 now looks almost trim. One German writer called it zierlich, dainty, next to a modern GLS.
Even the styling found its audience. The absence of ornament, the sheer clarity of its lines, outlasted expectations. Its slab sides became a modernist statement. When the softer, more emotive W220 arrived, some owners realized what had been lost, a sense of timeless, absolute solidity.
The W140 became the car of world leaders and despots, diplomats and tycoons, popes and rap stars, before all of them migrated to large American SUVs or, for the British, Range Rovers. It turned up everywhere, from music videos to action films to nightly news broadcasts.
It ferried Boris Yeltsin to Kremlin meetings and carried Pope John Paul II in Landaulet form. It was the last S-Class of the Cold War and the first of the new era.
By the end of its production, it was more than just a luxury car. It stood as a symbol of engineering without restraint, unapologetic, outsized, and impossible to ignore.
III. Have it Your Way
Mercedes-Benz offered the W140 S-Class in more configurations than any rival of its era. At launch in 1991, and for the 1992 model year in North America, buyers could choose standard- or long-wheelbase sedans, with engines ranging from the 3.2-liter inline-six in the 300SE and 300SEL, the 4.2-liter V8 in the 400SE and 400SEL, the 5.0-liter V8 in the 500SEL, and the flagship 6.0-liter V12 in the 600SEL. In the United States, Mercedes also sold the 300SD turbodiesel with a 3.5-liter inline-six, though the long-wheelbase diesel was never offered there.
In 1992, the C140 coupe joined the lineup, first as the 500SEC and 600SEC. These two-doors shared the sedan’s core architecture but brought a lower roofline, longer doors, pillarless side glass, and a more raked rear. Despite slightly shorter length, the coupés were even heavier than the sedans due to extra reinforcement and luxury features. They exuded presence and exclusivity, especially the V12s, which often found their way into celebrity garages and palaces in the Middle East.
Customer preferences quickly diverged. Long-wheelbase cars, especially V12s, became the choice of heads of state and the chauffeur-driven. Short-wheelbase cars appealed to owner-drivers, especially in cities where maneuverability mattered.
In 1994, Mercedes adopted its new model nomenclature. The 500SEL became the S500, the 600SEC became the S600 Coupe, and so on. The S500 and S600 Coupe names was only for 1994 and 1995. In 1996, the coupes were rebranded as the CL-Class. The mid-cycle update brought subtle design revisions. The grille surround was slimmer, bumpers and lower cladding shifted to body color, and new wheel designs appeared. Clear-lens front indicators, revised tail lamps with white turn signals, and optional HID xenon headlamps were added, among the earliest applications of such lighting in a production car.
Mechanical upgrades followed. Between 1995 and 1997, Mercedes introduced the electronically controlled five-speed automatic, first on V8 models and later across the lineup. This transmission brought smoother shifts, adaptive logic, and a locking torque converter for better performance and economy. The V12s retained a strengthened four-speed automatic for several years, as the new gearbox could not initially handle the M120’s torque.
The final U.S. diesel S-Class was the 1995 S350 Turbodiesel, powered by the aging 3.5-liter inline-six notorious for rod-bending failures. In Europe, that engine was retired in 1996 and replaced by the OM606 3.0-liter 24-valve turbodiesel in the S300 Turbodiesel. The new engine was smoother, more refined, and far more reliable, but it was never sold in the United States.
Interior materials and technology evolved steadily over the W140’s lifespan. In 1993, Mercedes updated the HVAC system to use R134a refrigerant ahead of regulatory mandates. Two years later, the original infrared central locking was replaced by a more advanced radio-frequency system with greater range and no line-of-sight requirement. Other refinements included illuminated exterior door handles, new wood finishes, and expanded Designo trim options, underscoring Mercedes’ continued focus on luxury and detail.
The lineup grew more opulent in 1995 with the arrival of the S500 and S600 Pullman, true state limousines stretching six meters overall on a 4.14-meter wheelbase. Built by the customization division at Sindelfingen, they featured rear-facing jump seats, privacy partitions, and the highest-grade leather and wood trim. The S600 Pullman could be ordered with integrated factory armor, certified to B6 or B7 protection levels, and most served in government, royal, or diplomatic fleets.
Alongside the Pullman, Mercedes offered Guard versions of the S500 and S600, with ballistic protection built directly into the body shell on the assembly line. To the eye they looked almost identical to standard cars, but the heaviest tipped the scales at over four tons. The W140’s reputation for survivability was well earned: in one high-profile case, President Shevardnadze of Georgia survived an RPG attack in a W140 Guard.
An exotic W140 outlier was the S73T AMG wagon. Mercedes never officially offered a W140 estate, but the Sultan of Brunei commissioned a series of bespoke wagons with a C140 front end, powered by the 7.3-liter AMG V12 shared with Zonda. Roughly ten were built, each with unique interiors and extraordinary price tags. They remain among the rarest and most valuable W140 variants.