To Understand the Dangers of Overcommitment, Look to the Pueblo Incident

In the final year of Lyndon B. Johnson’s presidency, the United States contended with crises spanning the spectrum of its defense commitments. A war in the jungles of southeast Asia, a global Cold War centered in Europe, and a crisis on the Korean Peninsula stretched the limits of the United States’ conventional superiority. Consequently, there were few military courses of action available to President Johnson after North Korea captured the USS Pueblo (AGER-2) in January 1968. 

Today, the ongoing turmoil in the Middle East and the Red Sea is an ongoing reminder that a global commitment by the United States is still necessary to maintain stability in times of crisis. Tom Stevenson in The Guardian accurately characterized the American military as “[having] superiority over all other countries, control of the world’s oceans via critical sea lanes, garrisons on every continent, [and] a network of alliances.” However, it seems very likely historical grievances, long-running conflicts, and regional strife would be exacerbated during a hypothetical war between the United States and China. Declassified National Security Council materials discussing the capture of the Pueblo shed light on the difficult trade-offs the United States may soon face.

The Pueblo Incident

In 1968, maintaining a strong posture capable of delivering desired effects in three theaters was difficult despite the nearly 3.6 million active-duty troops (including a “four-ocean Navy” possessing 870 ships and 8,400 aircraft).¹ Today, the all-volunteer force totaling roughly 1.3 million personnel (supported by a much smaller Navy of 311 ships) is overcommitted and facing the prospect of conflict in no less than four distinct areas of the world. In addition to Korea, the Taiwan Strait, the Middle East, and Eastern Europe, there are other budding hot spots that may require some type of American intervention—including places close to home like Haiti, the Venezuela-Guyana border, and various narco-states in Latin America. There also are the increasingly contested domains of space and the Arctic. Whether it is POLITICO writing about the Navy struggling to deploy replacement ships, Bloomberg analysts cautioning that the United States may have to choose between deterring Russia in Europe or China in Asia, or the Financial Times describing an “overstretched” United States, there is a general concern the American military may not be fully equipped or manned to maintain its 70-year commitment to global security. 

North Korean actions in early 1968 jeopardized the Armistice Agreement that had held a fragile peace on the Korean peninsula since 1953. North Korea conducted deadly demilitarized zone infiltrations, indiscriminate attacks on South Korean fishing vessels, and an assassination attempt on the South Korean president.² Initially largely unaffected by these events, the United States was thrust into the situation after the North Korean Navy falsely accused the Pueblo of sailing into its territorial waters. Unfortunately, the ship was ill-equipped to defend itself, had a crew unfamiliar operating together, and was sailing alone with no armed escorts. The dire situation led to the Pueblo’s surrender. 

Within hours, President Johnson was briefed on the incident’s global ramifications.³ The ship’s sensitive intelligence collection mission added complexity to the Pueblo’s surrender: North Korea now had in its possession a crew well-versed in the United States’ signals intelligence program and nearly all the ship’s cryptographic equipment. Longstanding intelligence collection methods used against the Soviets, Chinese, and North Koreans were potentially at risk. As expected, a military response was on the table.⁴ Declassified notes from 1968 reveal the Joint Chiefs of Staff had only less-than-tenable options to provide the President because another north vs. south Indo-Pacific conflict required the immediate attention of the U.S. military—Vietnam.

The Tet Offensive

By chance, the Tet Offensive kicked off the same week the North Koreans captured the Pueblo. The war was already raging in Vietnam when the Viet Cong, undeterred by U.S. forces, conducted a countrywide, deadly attack against U.S. and South Vietnamese installations. The Viet Cong attack sought (and achieved) a “maximum psychological impact” and demonstrated the Communists’ ability to hold U.S. interests and personnel throughout Vietnam at risk despite the American conventional overmatch.⁵ The Tet Offensive, like the Pueblo Incident, required a military response. The growing U.S. commitment in Vietnam almost guaranteed that responding to the Tet Offensive would take precedence over all else.⁶ 

While the Tet Offensive and Pueblo Incident were just an unfortunate coincidence, simultaneous events that threaten U.S. security or interests can sometimes appear to be a sinister plot coordinated between adversaries. These suspicions were vocalized throughout the Johnson administration—including by the President, who said, “he would not be surprised if something happened in Berlin to coincide [with the events in Vietnam and Korea].”⁷ Then–Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara stated at a meeting with the National Security Council that the capture of the Pueblo seemed like an attempt to tie down U.S. resources.⁸ Though inaccurate, such conclusions could be forgiven in the context of the Cold War. Such unfortunate coincidences add a further layer of danger and complexity. In 1968, it was suspected that the Soviet Union, North Korea, and the Viet Cong may have been working together; in 2024, these same kinds of suspicions are directed at Iran, Russia, and China.

President Johnson’s primary objectives in the immediate aftermath included “hitting the North Koreans,” “getting a thorough explanation [about the Pueblo],” and capturing a North Korean ship.⁹ However, any kinetic American military response against the North Koreans required preemptively increasing U.S. military assets on the Korean Peninsula.¹⁰ There was a significant risk that major hostilities would erupt following U.S. military reciprocation. Further, the specter of communist China and the Soviet Union entering the conflict on behalf of the North Koreans was at the forefront of initial military planning.¹¹ Thus, plans for avenging the Pueblo revealed that there were not enough troops or aircraft to sustain combat operations in Korea and meet concurrent commitments in other theatres.¹² Nonetheless, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (CJCS) was presented in May 1968 with multiple options to facilitate the logistics for military action:¹³ 

1. The U.S. could disengage in Vietnam and shift those forces north towards Japan and Korea. 
2. Lessen the commitment to NATO, withdraw troops from the European continent, and send them to the Pacific.
3. Ask Congress to extend the service commitments of all active-duty members and call up the reserves.

There was an ominous fourth option: make do with the forces available and prepare for the early use of nuclear weapons against North Korea.¹⁴ Another memorandum from the CJCS to President Johnson highlighted that “tactical nuclear weapons or chemical agents” would be effective against the North Koreans.¹⁵ Fortunately, the United States avoided a second war in the Indo-Pacific as the White House decided to abandon military action north of the 38th parallel. Diplomacy became the instrument of liberation.¹⁶ After nearly a year of tense negotiations, the North Koreans agreed to release the Pueblo crew. The ship itself remains in North Korea as a moored museum in Pyongyang.

Looking Forward

The options to facilitate military courses of action in 1968 are likely similar to the choices the United States will encounter in the near future. Extending service commitments and calling up the reserves was an unlikely solution in 1968 because of domestic considerations. Even in an era when the draft was active, a mass mobilization for war would have been a political controversy. Walt Rostow, President Johnson’s National Security Advisor, noted during the Pueblo Incident that the United States would be hesitant to call up the reserves in a presidential election year.¹⁷ 

It is safe to assume that a modern-day mass mobilization would be just as controversial. Americans are weary of the thought of another overseas conflict. The Selective Service System remains a viable last resort, but any congressional or presidential talk of authorizing conscription will probably become a political third rail. Even if today’s recruitment shortfalls and expensive weapon programs could be overcome with inexpensive unmanned systems and artificial intelligence, these solutions cannot be relied upon as a deus ex machina in the short-term. As a result, a major overseas crisis necessitating military action by the United States is likely to force a choice that resembles option 1 or option 2: withdrawing from a previous U.S. security commitment, thus prioritizing the theatre in crisis. This will likely lead to some or all of the following: abandoned allies, power vacuums, and doubt about the integrity of U.S. mutual defense treaties. 

The year 1968 highlights the danger of maintaining geographically dispersed defense commitments. Whether from power vacuums created by the shifting of American resources to the Indo-Pacific or ripe opportunistic plays by regional actors, the United States will likely find itself strained and overcommitted in defending its vital interests, security guarantees, and mutual-defense treaties. One theatre’s combatant commander will be prioritized at the expense of another, and this zero-sum game will eventually reach a breaking point. A meaningful change in the calculus, such as increasing force size or withdrawing from previously made commitments, is probably the best option to retain U.S. freedom of action. In the likely scenario that there are no rollbacks to security commitments or dramatic increases in force size, there are asymmetric actions that can be taken. If they exist, demonstrating previously classified combat capabilities may extend the shelf-life of conventional American deterrence. Otherwise, difficult choices, such as prioritizing the defense of Taiwan over a stabilizing presence in the Middle East, will become commonplace in American foreign policy.