On our first visit to Korea we looked at a very, very normal car with humble beginnings. It was the Hyundai Stellar, which hid recycled Cortina underneath an off-the-shelf Giugiaro body. Hyundai were easing themselves into the international car sales water at a sensible pace.

Ssangyong took the absolute diametrically opposite approach.

Like Hyundai, Ssangyong had been assembling versions of other peoples vehicles for a long time. In Ssangyongs’ case it had been Jeeps, so all-terrain machines were by no means a stretch for their imagination. In fact, they made a decision to make a big thing of the burgeoning global 4×4 market, a choice which worked quite well for them.

They practised by selling a license-built version of the Isuzu Trooper, which they kept mainly for domestic consumption. When the moment arrived for a global assault, Ssangyong knew that things would be markedly easier by buddying up with somebody who’d done it all before. They chose Mercedes-Benz.

While researching for tonight’s instalment of R.A-S.H, I learnt something entirely new; that the Musso, the first fruit of the tie-up, was also sold as the Mercedes-Benz Musso in some markets. If you knew that already, I doff my cap at you. Anyway. The Korando (Korea Can-Do, you see) was the smaller sister to the Musso (Korean for Rhinocerous, not Moose as you might think). It first went public hereabouts with a slightly alarming magazine insert.

In this early release it is seen in full Korean domestic market uniform, with proudly white-lettered Hankook Dynamic Radials, and the KJ nameplate. By the time it landed here in Blighty it had reverted to the Korando name and had some of the more gauche stylistic elements toned down a bit.

“You’re looking at a 4×4 with real attitude. In-your-face on the street. The business off the road”

Ssangyong knew they needed to display confidence without the gimmicky bolshiness of the past, this was a serious product they were hawking,; one with proper engineering credentials behind it. A proper, world-class SUV. And definitely:

“not a wacky joke of a 4×4”

But not as po-faced as some of the competition the idea was that the Korando should be:

“For those who take their fun very seriously indeed”

Almost from the beginning Ssanyong started to reel off from their list of luminaries who had been involved in the development programme, and most prominent of all was Ssangyongs’ legendary designer Mr Ken Greenley. Ken had previously been involved with the Bentley Continental R and the Aston Martin Virage, and then, well, he answered a call from the Koreans and  created the “stunning, award winning Musso”, which allegedly was supposed to look like a prestige saloon car and a tough-as-boots off-road commando rolled into one. To be honest, it wasn’t pretty. It held a certain, angular, brutish appeal, but I personally preferred Ken in his Aston period.

Much is said within the brochure about the Korandos’ “Daring” styling. They call it a “radical, high tech interpretation of the legendary original Jeep”

Surely Jeep would have been a more appropriate company to create a radical, high tech interpretation of the legendary original Jeep. Maybe, if you asked them, they too might be able to rustle up:

“A new breed that’s both streetwise and wilderness-wise, a machine that’s serious fun.”

I like it. There are distinct Willys Jeep overtones around the headlamps and hints in the front fenders; the cabin shape is Asia-generic and the whole thing possibly a bit contrived, but as a whole it sits together quite cohesively and shows a lot more spirit than most established brands were displaying at the time. Indeed, I don’t recall anything with a Jeep badge being nearly as interesting in 1996.

Ssangyong continued to stress how much fun you could expect to have in the Korando all the way through the brochure, even going so far as to use bright psychedelic colours that make you wonder if it had been sweet ‘n low or LSD you just stirred into your tea. Or both.

“A serious head-turner that looks tough enough to go to war. And is- the Korando has been designed to satisfy the rigours of active duty with the south Korean military”

This claim certainly held some validity; the Korando had a separate chassis and was entirely conventionally engineered for an SUV chassis, but 4×4 and axle ratio selection was shift-on-the-fly and its short-wheelbase  meant a 40.3 degree gradeability.

So,  the  “Stop them in their tracks” styling has been dealt with sufficiently, but what about the endless shouting about where the rest of the engineering came from? Well, Borg-Warner gets a name-check, but it’s their friend Herr Benz who gets most of the plaudits.

MB lent the Korando their “2.9 litre 5-cylinder diesel” (the OM602 lump), and “2.3 litre twin cam 16 valve petrol engine” adding proudly that the latter was the “best performing engine of its size, with 140PS and similar to that in Mercedes C  Class cars”.

It would be fair to say that the petrol engine could really have made use of the supercharger that the C230K enjoyed at the time, as the gas-powered Korando could barely scrape its way past the ton.  The diesel, available only as a normally aspirated boat anchor that would very probably run until the end of time, thrummed out 96 and a half horses and wheezed its way to an eventual 85mph. No acceleration figures were admitted to.

The implication of the Mercedes-Benz factor was “impeccable reliability and, dare we say, respectability”. Well, the reliability of the diesel unit is a given, aided and abetted by its inert nature. The respectability issue? I’m not really sure how highly the Ssangyong name registered in Squash Club circles in the late ’90s.

In 1995 the seminal Oxfordshire-based rock group Radiohead released the single “Fake Plastic Trees.” In 1996 Ssangyong released an automotive interior that was clearly designed in homage to that song, for the Korando boasts some of the most offensive mock timber to have ever sprouted from a dashboard.

Aside from that, all inside is generic late ’90s Pacific Rim. The steering wheel appears not to carry a brand logo, merely the embossed instruction “seatbelt use required” and the legend SRS-40 appear on the single drivers-side airbag.  There was a Clarion stereo in which to play all your favourite tapes, the front windows could be made to raise and descend electrically, but the options list makes no mention of air-conditioning, not in the UK, anyway.

With its tough engineering, three-year warranty and  roadside assistance, Ssangyong were confident that the Korando could offer “Complete, long term confidence”. Whether any of this faith was lost when, after a buy-out, the Ssangyong name disappeared and the Daewoo emblem appeared in its place, is an unanswered question. The brand is, now, enjoying a resurgence among those folk who want a big chunk of four-wheel-drive machinery but don’t want to spend a whole hill of cash. The Korando itself is still being churned out in a variety of guises by TagAZ in Russia, and there’s a new and far less distinctive Korando on sale here right now.

Is the Korando “The 4×4 you’ve been waiting for?“

(Disclaimer: All images are of original promotioal material photographed in the authors kitchen. I did all that grouting myself. All copyright remains property of Ssangyong, who currently sell a broad range of durable four-wheel-drive vehicles, all of which have, er, challenging styling)