Ren Zhengfei’s first journey beyond China occurred in 1992, when he and a Huawei delegation departed from Hong Kong, transited through Tokyo, and traveled across the United States. Their itinerary covered Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Dallas, Las Vegas, Silicon Valley, and Los Angeles. During the trip, they visited several leading power-supply companies—CP, Texas Instruments, and National Semiconductor—and toured Harvard University, MIT, Central Park, and the American Museum of Natural History. The primary purpose of the visit was to attend the Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in Las Vegas. Huawei did not participate as an exhibitor; Ren and his team were merely observers. The company would not formally appear at CES until 2009, a full fifteen years later.
In retrospect, the contrast is striking. By 2017, Huawei had become a major presence at CES. The HUAWEI Mate 9 received eight awards from global media for its partnership with leading technology brands, long battery life, strong performance, refined industrial design, and Leica dual-lens camera. The Huawei MateBook was similarly recognized with a CES Innovation Award for its elegant hardware and high performance. It was a transformation Ren Zhengfei could hardly have foreseen in 1992: from a visitor quietly walking exhibition floors to a figure presiding over a company at the center of global attention.
Ren has long maintained a habit of documenting his reflections after overseas travel. Among his early writings are “Notes from a Study Trip to the United States” (December 1994), “Notes on Participating in the Moscow International Telecommunications Exhibition” (July 1996), “Crossing the Eurasian Boundary” (April 1997), “What We Can Learn from the American People” (December 1997), “Spring in the North” (April 2001), and “Beautiful Iceland” (August 2005). These records collectively trace both his personal impressions of the world and Huawei’s gradual emergence onto the global stage.
Historical Insight as a Guiding Force in Chinese Strategy
A deep historical consciousness has long shaped Chinese identity. Over generations, historical stories have been internalized as part of a shared cultural memory. These narratives are not preserved simply as records of the past; they are woven into the way people understand themselves, their society, and their place in the world.
Throughout Chinese history, governance itself has been grounded in historical knowledge. Rulers were expected to study what their predecessors had done—both their achievements and their failures—and to draw lessons from them. History thus became an active instrument: a mirror reflecting the present, a teacher offering guidance for the future, and a moral compass shaping political conduct. This tradition helps explain why many Chinese instinctively look to the past when interpreting contemporary challenges or making strategic decisions.
Ren Zhengfei exemplifies this enduring mindset. His habit of learning is not limited to China’s own historical experience; he draws insight from the rise and fall of other nations and companies as well. In doing so, he continues a long cultural practice—using history, broadly understood, as a tool for reflection, decision-making, and long-term strategic thinking.
Ren Zhengfei’s 1994 U.S. Study Trip: Strategic Insights for China’s Technological Rise
Ren Zhengfei’s Notes from a Study Trip to the United States (1994) became both a travel diary and a strategic reflection written at a turning point in China’s early globalization. Concerned by the collapse of companies such as Wang Laboratories and Mitsubishi’s retreat from the PC market, Ren began his trip with a central question: why did once-powerful technology firms decline, and what shaped a nation’s long-term competitiveness? His journey through Boston, New York, Dallas, Las Vegas, Silicon Valley, and Los Angeles turned into an exploration of the deeper forces behind America’s technological strength and the challenges facing China’s development.
Ren first drew a sharp contrast between the two countries’ human and natural environments. He was impressed by the United States’ dedication to ecological protection—clean cities, integrated green spaces, and peaceful coexistence with wildlife—while China struggled with population pressure and environmental degradation. The most important difference he noted, however, was education. In American universities he saw a strong cycle of “education → technology → economy,” as well as many Asian students who would influence the future of global innovation. This experience heightened his worries about China’s under-resourced education system and strengthened his belief that national progress depended above all on education.
His visits to American companies reinforced this idea. Even small firms like CP showed rigor, focus, and systematic management, while large companies such as TI and National Semiconductor kept high-value research at home and sent production around the world—showing a clear understanding of technological sovereignty. Ren compared this with China’s impatience, superficial work habits, and reliance on “heroic individuals” instead of reliable systems. The massive, fast-moving Las Vegas Computer Show further gave him a sense of crisis: if Huawei stopped innovating, it would disappear. In this environment, Huawei decided to place itself inside global innovation networks, including by setting up research operations in Silicon Valley—an area Ren believed was not declining, as some media claimed, but entering a new stage of rapid growth.
A cultural comparison underlay many of his observations. Ren noticed that many Chinese, including students overseas, lived cautiously and frugally, which often limited their perspective. Americans, by contrast, appeared open, sociable, and quick to seize opportunities. The frontier spirit of the American West—its resilience, sacrifice, and pioneering mindset—seemed to him a model of psychological strength that China needed to develop. He rejected the idea of depending on external “saviors,” insisting that national progress required honestly facing weaknesses and pursuing knowledge, technology, and institutional reform with discipline and endurance.
Ren’s reflections eventually formed several strategic principles: learn technology from the United States and management from Japan; invest heavily in talent and R&D; internationalize boldly; and build long-term competitiveness through education, scientific innovation, and systematic management. His notes served not only as a research report but also as a record of Huawei’s early strategic awakening and a broader question shared by many Chinese entrepreneurs of the time: how could China rise in a world driven by technology?
Huawei’s 1996 Moscow Debut and Ren Zhengfei’s Global Vision
Ren Zhengfei’s Notes on Participating in the Moscow International Telecommunications Exhibition (July 1996) recounted Huawei’s first major step onto the global stage and captured a key moment in China’s early phase of corporate internationalization. Written as a reflective travelogue, the essay set the economic turmoil of mid-1990s Russia—ruble devaluation, inflation, and widespread counterfeit imports—against a society that still showed discipline, cultural confidence, and resilience. Ren admired Russia’s deep technological and historical heritage and believed that its long-term potential far outweighed its immediate difficulties. He also pointed out the economic complementarity between China and Russia and called for long-term cooperation based on mutual benefit rather than short-term gains.
Within this environment, Huawei’s participation in the 8th Moscow International Telecommunications Exhibition became a turning point. Despite limited international experience, language challenges, and strong global competitors, Huawei presented its self-developed C&C08 digital switch and challenged long-held assumptions that Chinese products lacked advanced technology. Positive feedback from Russian ministries and media helped change the image of “Made in China,” countered stereotypes linking Chinese goods to low quality or counterfeits, and built early credibility for Huawei. This experience gave Ren grounds to outline a three-year plan focused on localization and market consolidation, framing internationalization as a long, disciplined process rather than a quick pursuit.
Ren’s reflections also went beyond business strategy and touched on national development. He emphasized that genuine international respect came from economic strength rather than rhetoric, criticized domestic vanity, and urged a culture of hard work, endurance, and ethical behavior. Drawing on Soviet works such as How the Steel Was Tempered, he highlighted crisis awareness, moral discipline, and the importance of learning selectively from global civilizations. His warnings against both rigid conservatism and opportunism served as cultural guidance for Huawei employees as they entered the early stages of globalization.
Ultimately, the essay stood as both a milestone in Huawei’s growth and a vivid portrayal of a generation of Chinese entrepreneurs operating in uncertain times. It reflected the spirit of “sowing seeds in winter”: seizing opportunity in adversity, earning recognition through technological capability, and allowing the world to reconsider its understanding of China through integrity, resilience, and innovation.
Ren Zhengfei’s Eurasian Journey and China’s Global Ambition
Ren Zhengfei’s 1997 internal article, Crossing the Eurasian Boundary, mixed travel writing with geopolitical reflection and corporate self-assessment. Written during his trip to Ufa to sign a Huawei–Russia cooperation agreement, the piece described both the immediacy of Russia’s landscapes and the larger meaning of Huawei’s early moves beyond China. Ren recounted crossing the Ural Mountains—portraying them not as towering peaks but as “small mounds.” He used this geography as a metaphor for Huawei’s early international push: although the company had just “broken out of Asia,” it still faced far greater obstacles when trying to enter mature Western markets. His impressions of Russia’s rich black soil and untouched forests led him to compare them with China’s impoverished northwest, reinforcing his belief that education, self-reliance, and persistence could bring similar progress at home.
The article also offered a clear view of Russia’s economic difficulties after the Soviet collapse. Even though Russia possessed top-tier natural resources, strong scientific traditions, and highly trained experts, it suffered from inflation, unpaid wages, and industrial decline. Ren attributed this situation to the rigid structures left by the planned economy and the disruptive effects of “shock therapy.” He linked Russia’s troubles to global power struggles, arguing that U.S. strategic pressure—seen in NATO expansion and unfulfilled promises—aimed to limit the rise of both Russia and China. In this context, he welcomed the emergence of a China–Russia strategic partnership as a realistic alignment of long-term interests.
Reflecting on Huawei’s early operations in Russia, Ren acknowledged how difficult it was to establish a presence in a market dominated by Western brands and influenced by negative stereotypes of low-quality Chinese products. He described how Huawei’s frontline staff endured hardship and repeated failures but continued to push forward through discipline and determination. Ren argued that succeeding abroad required more than strong products; it demanded an approach aligned with foreign policy, one that built trust through technology transfer, training, and genuine cooperation—actions he believed could change global perceptions of Chinese industry.
He ended the piece by drawing lessons for China’s own development. Ren warned that the Soviet Union collapsed because its system was too rigid and could not resolve internal tensions through gradual reform. Russia’s weakened light-industry sector and heavy dependence on imports served, he believed, as a caution for China as it opened its markets and prepared to join the WTO. He urged China to strengthen domestic industries, protect employment, and implement reforms in a measured way. Ren cautioned against blind admiration of foreign goods and stressed the need to develop advanced national industries—such as aircraft and automobiles—supported by education, population planning, and the cultivation of intellectual talent. Wealth, he insisted, did not belong exclusively to the West.
Throughout the article, Ren emphasized patriotism and shared purpose. He recalled scenes such as Huawei employees singing “Ode to the Motherland” outside Moscow, moments that expressed the link between their overseas struggles and China’s broader aspirations. Ren compared the suffering of Soviet intellectuals with China’s own historical traumas and referenced examples like Israel’s success in transforming barren land to show that national renewal was possible. Ultimately, the article served both as a record of Huawei’s early steps onto the global stage and as a reflection on China’s modernization path—arguing that perseverance, reform, and self-reliance could lead China, Russia, and others toward a more prosperous future.
Ren Zhengfei’s 1997 Strategic Reflection: Learning from America to Forge Huawei’s Future
“What We Can Learn from the American People,” written by Ren Zhengfei in December 1997, served as a strategic reflection at a formative moment in Huawei’s history. Drawing on what he observed during his visit to the United States, Ren offered an incisive analysis of the institutional foundations behind American technological strength: a continuously evolving innovation ecosystem, a mature management culture, and a deeply rooted ethos of dedication. His central insight was that American innovation did not arise from isolated genius but from a systemic architecture—immigrant dynamism, tolerance for failure, fluid talent mobility, and venture capital support—through which national power accumulated even when individual enterprises failed.
Ren contrasted this with Huawei’s situation at the time: a rapidly growing but immature organization whose management capabilities lagged behind its expansion. He emphasized the need to shift from opportunistic catch-up to creating new opportunities through basic research and strategic pre-research. Learning from cases such as IBM’s reinvention and Bell Labs’ long-term scientific investment, he stressed that effective management was the only internal variable an enterprise could truly control on a “path of no return.” Bureaucracy, he warned, emerged naturally in large organizations and had to be constrained through institutional design, merit-based promotion, and collective decision-making.
At the cultural level, Ren rejected simplistic ideological assumptions and highlighted the universality of dedication. He noted that the perseverance of American scientists, engineers, and executives—whether working through illness or committing extraordinary personal effort—reflected the same spirit embodied by China’s own scientific pioneers. Striving, he argued, transcended borders; nations needed to identify, cultivate, and protect their “Deng Jiaxians,” ensuring that commitment and selflessness became enduring social values.
Ren also placed Huawei’s challenges within a broader national context. He believed that Sino-US relations reflected structural competition, yet temporary political tensions should not stop China from learning from the United States. For China to advance in science, technology, and industry, it had to invest in education for the long term, unleash the potential of its large population, and build institutions capable of sustaining innovation. Only through scientific and technological self-reliance could China stand firmly in the next century.
Ultimately, the article acted as both introspection and mobilization. It laid the intellectual groundwork for Huawei’s later management reforms, including the adoption of IBM-derived systems such as IPD and ISC, and reinforced the company’s dual emphasis on technology leadership and managerial modernization. By promoting humility, open learning, and crisis awareness at a moment when Huawei had only just reached profitability, Ren set the cultural direction that would guide the company’s rise over the following two decades. The speech marked an early strategic awakening—integrating Western management thought with Chinese practice—and represented a decisive step in Huawei’s transformation into an international enterprise.
Crisis Consciousness and Renewal in Ren Zhengfei’s Vision
Ren Zhengfei’s 2001 essay “Spring in the North” is both a strategic warning and a philosophical meditation, written at a moment when Huawei was expanding rapidly yet facing the first signs of an impending downturn. After visiting Japan during its “lost decade,” Ren sought to understand how a nation could maintain stability, discipline, and dignity through ten years of economic stagnation. He was struck by the calmness and resilience of Japanese society—low crime, orderly public life, and sustained commitment to work despite years without salary growth. This social endurance, he concluded, formed the deep foundation of Japan’s eventual recovery.
His analysis moved beyond surface impressions to identify the structural roots of Japan’s predicament. The very systems that once powered its rise—lifetime employment, seniority-based promotion, and large, all-purpose corporations—had become rigid liabilities in the era of globalization and the knowledge economy. Innovation lagged because civilian technologies failed to absorb advances in military research, the market remained too closed to stimulate disruptive competition, and the bursting of the real-estate bubble left corporations burdened with excess equipment, excess employment, and massive debt. Consensus-based governance slowed decision-making, while an aging talent structure sapped vitality. The lesson, Ren warned, was universal: successful models can harden into the seeds of future failure.
Against this backdrop, Ren offered a sober assessment of China’s development potential. Unlike Japan’s saturated society, China still had decades of room for growth in infrastructure, education, rural development, environmental protection, and housing. These late-mover advantages could support two to three decades of high-speed expansion. Yet he cautioned against falling into the traps of complacency—high-welfare inertia, overconfidence, or the belief that prosperity guarantees perpetual momentum.
His sharpest reflections, however, were reserved for Huawei itself. Despite rapid expansion, Huawei was entering its own “late autumn”: R&D and marketing were strong, but finance, planning, and supply-chain systems lagged, forming structural bottlenecks. Bureaucracy and “responsibility to people” rather than “responsibility to tasks” weakened professionalism. Some employees confused market opportunity with true capability, nurturing a dangerous pride detached from global standards. With many managers untested by adversity, Ren feared that a real “winter” could expose a lack of resilience.
To confront this, he called for deep self-revolution: accelerating IT-enabled management, streamlining bloated structures, strengthening end-to-end processes, and cultivating a culture of self-criticism, professionalism, and long-term discipline. Internationalization, he emphasized, remained rudimentary; language barriers, documentation gaps, and limited global experience were real weaknesses that required humility and sustained effort to overcome.
Ren closed with a reflection on the song “Spring in the Northern Country,” interpreting it not as a romantic tune but as a tribute to the struggles, sacrifices, and quiet dedication that enable renewal. Spring, he wrote, comes only after a long winter—and only to those who labor, reflect, and reform. For Huawei, as for any nation or enterprise, there is no savior: survival depends on preparedness, self-correction, and perseverance.
In essence, “Spring in the North” is a call to foresee danger in times of success, to learn from the misfortunes of others, and to use adversity as fuel for transformation. It remains one of Ren Zhengfei’s most enduring statements on crisis consciousness, strategic sobriety, and the philosophy of struggle.
Ren Zhengfei’s “Beautiful Iceland”: Reflections on Sustainability, Integrity, and China’s Development Path
Mr. Ren Zhengfei’s “Beautiful Iceland” offered a reflective account of his 2005 family visit to Iceland, undertaken at the invitation of entrepreneur Tomas. The journey began in Scotland, where the striking harmony between environmental protection and economic vitality first captured his attention. This early impression prepared him for the deeper observations he later made across Iceland’s dramatic landscapes and highly organized society.
During his stay, he witnessed the country’s unique natural environment—its volcanoes, glaciers, and abundant water resources—and the strong ecological consciousness of its people. Practices such as returning healthy salmon to the wild and maintaining meticulous long-term ecological statistics revealed a society that treated sustainability not as an abstract ideal but as a disciplined, collective habit. He also observed an exceptionally efficient industrial economy driven by fishing and tourism. Iceland’s fisheries operated an integrated, technologically advanced chain of electronic auctions, rapid transshipment, deep processing, and air-freight export, demonstrating a level of precision and coordination that he found remarkable. A visit to a housing museum further showed how Iceland had transformed itself within half a century from poverty into prosperity, with Icelandic capital becoming active across European industries.
These observations led him to a series of comparisons and reflections on China’s development. He contrasted Iceland’s commitment to environmental protection with the short-termism that sometimes harmed China’s ecosystems, and linked Iceland’s rigorous statistical practices to the value of continuous improvement in organizational work. He also noted how high social integrity in Iceland lowered transaction costs, while China continued to face challenges rooted in historical disruptions that had slowed its economic progress. Yet his reflections were neither pessimistic nor critical in isolation. Instead, he emphasized that China, despite its rapid achievements since reform and opening, still needed to learn humbly from countries like Iceland, which embodied “great strategies for small nations.”
Ultimately, Ren used his travel narrative to advocate a development philosophy grounded in sustainability, disciplined learning, and institutional integrity. His reflections suggested both concern and hope: concern for the structural and cultural obstacles China still needed to overcome, and hope based on the belief that earnest learning—from successes and failures at home and from best practices abroad—would ensure a better future for the country.
Ren Zhengfei’s Historical Methodology: Lessons from Global Tech Failures and Successes
Ren Zhengfei’s management worldview was shaped not by copying any single company but by treating corporate history as a reservoir of strategic warnings and structural wisdom. His long-term study of Wang Laboratories, IBM, Bell Labs, Nortel, Panasonic, and other global firms enabled him to extract principles that became the backbone of Huawei’s transformation from a small equipment reseller in 1987 into a global ICT giant. What emerged was a system that fused Western process rationality with Chinese organizational resilience—an architecture built on historical awareness, disciplined reflection, and institutional innovation.
Wang Laboratories provided the earliest cautionary tale. Once a star of the U.S. technology scene, it collapsed under the weight of technological arrogance and an overly centralized, founder-dependent governance structure. Ren saw in Wang’s downfall a clear lesson: technological brilliance is transient unless supported by systems that outlast the founder. This understanding drove Huawei’s early adoption of formal governance mechanisms, including the Huawei Basic Law, the IPD reform, and later the rotating chairman system, shifting the company from “founder-driven” to “process-driven” leadership.
IBM offered a contrasting lesson in rebirth. Its near-collapse in the early 1990s exposed the dangers of bureaucratic ossification in large technology firms. Ren’s visit to IBM convinced him that scale without process is perilous. Huawei subsequently invested billions of yuan and more than a decade in building an integrated body of processes—IPD for R&D, ISC for supply chain, IFS for finance, and LTC for customer engagement. These reforms enabled Huawei to operate globally with efficiency, coherence, and repeatability, allowing the company to “put on shoes” and run as a mature multinational.
From Bell Labs came a nuanced lesson about innovation. Its monumental scientific achievements coexisted with structural detachment from business needs after the breakup of AT&T. Ren concluded that research must both explore frontiers and remain attuned to market realities. Huawei therefore created a three-tiered innovation system consisting of the forward-looking 2012 Labs, product-oriented R&D lines, and frontline “iron triangle” customer teams. This ensured a continuous feedback loop from pre-research to commercialization, preventing innovation from drifting into isolation while preserving long-term technological ambition.
Nortel’s rise and collapse highlighted the dangers of strategic drift under capital market pressure. Its downfall reinforced Ren’s conviction that Huawei must avoid short-termism and financial speculation. Rejecting public listing, Huawei built an employee ownership system that grounded the company’s governance in long-term commitment rather than quarterly expectations. Paired with disciplined investment in core businesses and sustained high R&D intensity, this structure created a form of strategic patience that enabled Huawei to weather successive global crises.
Finally, the evolution of Japanese firms such as Panasonic illuminated the tension between harmony and dynamism. While Japanese management once excelled in loyalty and craftsmanship, over time excessive consensus stifled dissent and adaptability. Ren thus advocated a culture that is spirited, self-critical, and meritocratic. Huawei’s combination of “wolf culture,” structured self-criticism, and transparent internal challenge mechanisms helped maintain organizational vitality while avoiding the stasis that plagued many mature Japanese firms.
Taken together, these lessons formed Ren Zhengfei’s “historical methodology”: strategy must be focused, organizations must retain both scale and agility, innovation must close the loop between lab and market, governance must resist short-term pressures, and culture must sustain both discipline and debate. Huawei’s rise, therefore, is not an imitation of IBM, Bell Labs, or any other predecessor. It is the result of distilling their successes and failures into a uniquely Chinese management model—customer-centric, employee-driven, long-term in orientation, and resilient in structure. Through this historically informed lens, Huawei converted the missteps of others into institutional safeguards, enabling its sustained ascent from a 20,000-yuan startup to a global technology powerhouse.
Conclusion
Ren Zhengfei is widely regarded as a strategic corporate thinker for his long-term technological vision, resilience planning, global insight, and organizational innovation—qualities that helped transform Huawei from a small startup into a global technology leader. Throughout the company’s development, he treated the histories, customs, and corporate trajectories of various countries and firms as “strategic textbooks.” From IBM he drew lessons in organizational resilience; from Wang Laboratories, openness as a condition for survival; from Panasonic, crisis awareness; from Bell Labs, the balance between innovation and discipline; and from Nortel, the dangers of financial greed. Ren integrated these insights into Huawei’s management architecture—including its DSTE (Strategy to Execution) system, rotating CEO mechanism, and “entropy-reduction” organizational philosophy—creating an enterprise that fuses Western managerial rigor with Eastern strategic wisdom. In essence, his leadership turned the failures and successes of others into Huawei’s own adaptive immune system, enabling the company to grow with coherence, discipline, and global competitiveness.