On the first anniversary of the successful operation that killed Osama bin Laden, we should look back on the national security leadership that achieved that objective but also consider, especially with a presidential election just around the corner, the broader national security track record of the Obama administration.

The iconic image of President Barack Obama and his national security team huddled in the Situation Room to monitor the unfolding operation in Pakistan has come to symbolize the president's difficult decision to override several of his advisers and launch the operation.

Perhaps less appreciated, but also crucial, were other decisions he made about that operation. The president chose a risky helicopter raid over a more cautious but imprecise air strike that might have compromised success and risked significant collateral damage in the surrounding Pakistani town. He then personally decided to add backup helicopters.

He also decided not to inform Pakistan of the operation beforehand, since Pakistan has previously tipped off terrorists to help them escape surprise raids. Still, this is a difficult calculation: Pakistan remains a necessary partner in the pursuit of al-Qaida, and the raid came against the backdrop of tense diplomatic battles over the U.S. drone campaign in that country.

The president's impact on the successful pursuit of bin Laden dates even earlier to 2009, when he reviewed activities aimed at bin Laden and ordered a stepped up operation to find the terrorist leader. The truth is that under President George W. Bush, resources had been diverted from the hunt for bin Laden, and the White House had played down the importance of his capture. Obama has also kept up a relentless campaign of drone strikes in Pakistan, Afghanistan and Yemen. The United States launched more strikes in Obama's first year than in Bush's eight, and the targeted strikes have severely reduced the ranks of senior al-Qaida figures. Even as al-Qaida's central leadership is in disarray, though, al-Qaida affiliates based in countries including Somalia and Yemen remain a serious threat that demands continued focus and attention from a strong national security leadership team.

Obama's national security team, including those huddled in the now famous Sit Room photo, is testament to the commander in chief who assembled it. We saw early signs of Obama's astute national security leadership when he chose then Sen. Joe Biden, an experienced foreign policy hand, as his vice president. Obama also kept Secretary Robert Gates, his Republican predecessor's pick, to maintain continuity and strong leadership. He chose his campaign rival Hillary Clinton to serve most ably as secretary of state. Later, he persuaded Leon Panetta, the former OMB director, to lead the Defense Department through difficult budgetary times and a necessary rescaling of the armed forces. These choices and those at lower levels have created a steady, competent national security team that has handled a myriad of crises with aplomb.

Obama and his team have ended the American military presence in Iraq and laid the groundwork for a hand-off to Afghan security forces and an end to that military engagement, too. The U.S. intervention in Libya was limited and focused, and it had impressive multilateral support including, critically, from many Arab nations. With Iran, Obama has leveraged effective multilateralism to put in place targeted and effective sanctions that seem to be having an effect.

It is easy to take these achievements for granted, but they stand in stark contrast to the situation Obama inherited: two wars, an overstretched military and a damaged reputation in the world. As Bush-era national security figures have rushed to advise various Republican candidates in recent months, we should note how different the past three years have been from the eight that came before. And we should think seriously about the consequences of the potential return to power of the Bush national security team. We have come a long way from the years characterized by unilateralism, unclear objectives and misplaced priorities that weakened our national interests and put an unreasonable burden on our economy and our armed forces.

Yet the same Congress that has heard all of this disturbing testimony is mired in disagreements about a proposed cybersecurity bill that does little to address the problem of Chinese cyberespionage. The bill, which would establish noncompulsory industry cybersecurity standards, is bogged down in ideological disputes. Senator John McCain, who dismissed it as a form of unnecessary regulation, has proposed an alternative bill that fails to address the inadequate cyberdefenses of companies running the nation’s critical infrastructure. Since Congress appears unable and unwilling to address the threat, the executive branch must do something to stop it.

In the past, F.B.I. agents parked outside banks they thought were likely to be robbed and then grabbed the robbers and the loot as they left. Catching the robbers in cyberspace is not as easy, but snatching the loot is possible.

General Alexander testified last week that his organization saw an inbound attack that aimed to steal sensitive files from an American arms manufacturer. The Pentagon warned the company, which had to act on its own. The government did not directly intervene to stop the attack because no federal agency believes it currently has the authority or mission to do so.

If given the proper authorization, the United States government could stop files in the process of being stolen from getting to the Chinese hackers. If government agencies were authorized to create a major program to grab stolen data leaving the country, they could drastically reduce today’s wholesale theft of American corporate secrets.

Many companies do not even know when they have been hacked. According to Congressional testimony last week, 94 percent of companies served by the computer-security firm Mandiant were unaware that they had been victimized. And although the Securities and Exchange Commission has urged companies to reveal when they have been victims of cyberespionage, most do not. Some, including Sony, Citibank, Lockheed, Booz Allen, Google, EMC and the Nasdaq have admitted to being victims. The government-owned National Laboratories and federally funded research centers have also been penetrated.

Because it is fearful that government monitoring would be seen as a cover for illegal snooping and a violation of citizens’ privacy, the Obama administration has not even attempted to develop a proposal for spotting and stopping vast industrial espionage. It fears a negative reaction from privacy-rights and Internet-freedom advocates who do not want the government scanning Internet traffic. Others in the administration fear further damaging relations with China. Some officials also fear that standing up to China might trigger disruptive attacks on America’s vulnerable computer-controlled infrastructure.

But by failing to act, Washington is effectively fulfilling China’s research requirements while helping to put Americans out of work. Mr. Obama must confront the cyberthreat, and he does not even need any new authority from Congress to do so.

Under Customs authority, the Department of Homeland Security could inspect what enters and exits the United States in cyberspace. Customs already looks online for child pornography crossing our virtual borders. And under the Intelligence Act, the president could issue a finding that would authorize agencies to scan Internet traffic outside the United States and seize sensitive files stolen from within our borders.

And this does not have to endanger citizens’ privacy rights. Indeed, Mr. Obama could build in protections like appointing an empowered privacy advocate who could stop abuses or any activity that went beyond halting the theft of important files.

If Congress will not act to protect America’s companies from Chinese cyberthreats, President Obama must.

Has al-Qaeda become dispirited? No.

Recent plots, including the Mumbai raid in November 2008, the Times Square car bomb attempt in May of this year and now the plot in Europe, show that al-Qaeda is not only operationally alive and well, but has transformed its post-Afghanistan tactical retreat into a formidable new strategy. In the early part of the last decade, al-Qaeda had no choice but to use conventional explosives and old-fashioned terrorist tactics to hit soft targets, the 2002 bombing of nightclubs in Bali being perhaps the best example. With its leadership under siege in Pakistan, it lacked the capacity to mount sophisticated and coordinated attacks that would match, let alone exceed, the innovation or shock value on display on Sept. 11, 2001, or even in the USS Cole operation the year before.

Watching this shift, the tacit assumption of most counterterrorism officials and analysts was that al-Qaeda was simply biding its time and trying to rebuild its capacity to stage unprecedented, apocalyptic attacks on the United States and Europe. But even if that was once the group's intention, it appears to have been sidelined.

The new al-Qaeda seems to understand its limitations and appears to be adopting more realistic means of achieving its grand objectives. There is no reason to think that al-Qaeda has abandoned its all-out jihad to defend Islam against what it sees as centuries of repression and humiliation at the hands of the West. But instead of fomenting revolutionary outrage with spectacular gestures, it is slowly raising a new army designed to wage traditional urban warfare.

Some members of this second-generation army have been seasoned by the classical insurgencies in Iraq and Afghanistan; others are Western members of the Muslim diaspora or converts to Islam. Although many of them have attended al-Qaeda training camps, a large number of them lack traditional terrorist pedigrees and have no criminal records.

With the help of these so-called "cleanskins," who are difficult for Western security services to detect, al-Qaeda's opportunistic, pragmatic leadership has embraced urban warfare of the sort pioneered by terrorists decades ago: low-intensity, IRA-style operations in densely populated areas, using both conventional military weapons (such as assault rifles and rocket-propelled grenades) and standard terrorist weapons (such as improvised explosive devices). This, not simultaneously blowing up airliners or destroying skyscrapers, was the mode of jihad envisioned by Abd al-Aziz al-Muqrin, the late leader of the jihad in Saudi Arabia and the author of the appropriately named turn-of-the-century al-Qaeda combat manual "The War Against Cities."

This vision of a close-quarters confrontation with the general population is at least as disconcerting as the more novel style of apocalyptic terrorism that the strikes against the Pentagon and the World Trade Center appeared to herald. For one thing, it could eventually bring about an ongoing, direct, ground-level armed engagement of Western security forces -- think of Belfast or Beirut in the 1970s and 1980s. That sort of campaign could ultimately shake the public's confidence in the state to a greater extent than have less frequent, larger-scale operations such as the 9/11 attacks.

The most vivid evidence to date of urban warfare's ascendancy was the Mumbai operation, which ranks as the third most lethal jihadist attack since 9/11. Pakistani terrorists functioned like commandos, making an amphibious landing near Mumbai, infiltrating the city, converging on a set of preestablished targets and killing at least 173 people, mainly with AK-47s. Subsequently thwarted plots in Germany, Denmark and Britain reflected similar tactics. The Times Square operation and the European conspiracy have now confirmed the movement toward old-style terrorism, but on a new, more internationally coordinated basis.

Urban warfare has great appeal for al-Qaeda insofar as it gives perpetrators the opportunity to identify individual targets, as they did in Mumbai, where they purposefully killed Hindus and Jews. In this way, it is consistent with the core al-Qaeda leadership's growing interest in avoiding Muslim casualties, an objective that has come largely at the behest of respected jihadist dissenters such as the Egyptian cleric Sayyid Imam al-Sharif (also known as Dr. Fadl).

In addition, urban warfare is relatively easy to execute, involving fewer and cheaper resources, less exacting planning and coordination, relatively inconspicuous preparation (requiring mainly readily concealable small arms and dual-use items such as fertilizer) and fewer operatives.

The long-range implications of this evolution are sobering. Al-Qaeda's leaders are realizing that they can panic and disrupt Western society the old-fashioned way -- but on a global level. If they succeed, their new strategy will inspire increasingly rigid security measures and rising paranoia, which will almost inevitably drive a wedge between Muslim and non-Muslim Americans. Given our increasingly rancorous, polarized politics and the politicization of counterterrorism, al-Qaeda's foray into urban warfare could make effective governance and the preservation of constitutional norms much tougher propositions than they have been so far in the age of terror.

Al-Qaeda is fighting a new war. Its adversaries must stop fighting the old one.

Obama has also emphasized Tehran's own actions as the determining factor in a U.S. response. "We offered the Iranian government a clear choice," he said on July 1, when he signed the Iran Sanctions Act. "It could fulfill its international obligations and realize greater security, deeper economic and political integration with the world . . . or it could continue to flout its responsibilities and face even more pressure and isolation."

And a few days later, the president stressed in an interview with Israeli television that although his administration will "continue to keep the door open for a diplomatic resolution . . . I assure you that I have not taken options off the table."

As a practical matter, however, Obama's decision on the use of force would hinge on factors well beyond Iran's timetable for obtaining a bomb. In fact, the political, military and policy constraints Obama would face could compel his administration to forgo the military option no matter how close Iran gets to joining the nuclear club.

First, there is the United Nations to consider. Both the George W. Bush and Obama administrations have centered their responses to Iran's nuclear ambitions on the Security Council, implying that Iran's conduct violates not just U.S. national security interests but also Tehran's international legal obligations. For Obama, the United Nations has doctrinal centrality, as well. According to the president's recently released National Security Strategy, "When force is necessary . . . we will seek broad international support, working with such institutions as NATO and the U.N. Security Council."

Given this impulse to multilateralize the use of force and link it to the rule of law as well as to self-interest, the administration would have a hard time attacking Iran without Security Council backing. This particular high ground, however, might be unattainable. Indeed, the United States has obtained a series of U.N. resolutions censuring Iran not because its legal arguments and foreign policy views have wowed the world, but simply because its European partners have feared that Washington might otherwise take matters into its own hands. These anxieties were more acute during the Bush years, but they have hardly dissipated with new occupants in the White House. From Europe's perspective, the U.N. process is designed not just to pressure Iran but also to enmesh the United States in cumbersome proceedings that limit its choices.

It may be comforting for Washington to blame China and Russia as the key obstacles to more forceful measures against Iran, but Britain and France -- where public opinion is already against participation in the war in Afghanistan -- also have little appetite for striking. An Obama team that has prioritized repairing ties with "old Europe" and resetting relations with Russia would have to think twice before putting these refurbished relationships at risk by bombing Iran. (A president who meticulously rehabilitated America's standing in Europe would scarcely be eager to don Bush's mantle as the Ugly American.)

Whatever progress Iran may make toward weapons of mass destruction, European diplomats and statesmen are likely to parade to Washington, concede America's concerns, affirm its intelligence findings -- and reject its policy recommendations. The United States would be advised to be patient and restock its economic sanctions kit for one more run at Tehran. In private, many strategists would summon their inner George Kennan and advise Washington that containment has worked with more powerful and unpredictable tyrants and can surely handle cautious mullahs and their rudimentary weapon. Washington would have to choose between an international coalition pledging rigorous containment of Iran, and the lonely, unpopular path of taking military action lacking allied consensus.

Domestic consensus would be critical as well. One of the tragedies of American history is that presidents have too often entangled the country in conflicts without forthright conversation with the public. Franklin Roosevelt and Lyndon Johnson engaged in their share of measured mendacity as they plunged the United States into very different wars. More recently, Bush's decision to preemptively invade Iraq was characterized by exaggerated threats and faulty information.

Obama came into office pledging a new politics of accountability and responsibility, suggesting a predisposition to engage the public on the possibility that the United States may find itself in a prolonged war with a damaged but dangerous adversary. From town halls to college campuses, the president and his advisers would need to connect with civil society, clergy and university students -- not to mention Congress -- on this critical issue.

The direction such a debate would take is hard to predict. According to a February Gallup poll, about 90 percent of Americans believe Iran poses a serious threat to U.S. vital interests; 61 percent assessed the threat as "critical." A Fox News/Opinion Dynamics poll conducted in April found that 65 percent of Americans favor military force as a way to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons.

Yet, if skepticism about U.S. military operations in Afghanistan and Iraq is any indication, Americans are also tired of war, while doubts about the accuracy of U.S. intelligence probably remain from the run-up to the Iraq war. A February CNN/Opinion Research poll indicated that only 23 percent of Americans agree with military action against Iran "now." (This is one arena in which Iranian behavior truly does matter; if President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and other leaders indulge in incendiary rhetoric toward the United States or Israel, U.S. public opinion might be more likely to back the possibility of strikes.)

The views and reactions of the Arab world would also be relevant. Although the United States is certainly capable of attacking Iran's nuclear installations without the consent or cooperation of the United Nations or of European allies, it would be hard-pressed to do so without the help of the small countries on the Arab side of the Persian Gulf.

The U.S. Fifth Fleet is headquartered in Bahrain; the Combined Air Operations Center is in Qatar; prepositioned materiel for ground and other forces is in Kuwait and Oman; and the United Arab Emirates offers extensive port facilities and staging for tactical aircraft. A campaign against Iran would require not just the acquiescence of these governments but their willingness to absorb retaliation by a bruised and outraged neighbor for years to come. While defense agreements already in place do not legally obligate the United States to come to the aid of these countries, strategic imperatives nonetheless would commit Washington to their defense. Such commitments would weigh heavily on an administration pondering the use of force.

Finally, a perceived need to warn Iran of a potential attack could complicate a decision to use force. As a nation, we have traditionally been averse to sneak attacks against even our most unsavory foes. American history is riddled with moments of hesitation and self-restraint even during high-pressure episodes. President John F. Kennedy rejected a surprise attack during the Cuban missile crisis on the grounds that it would transgress America's long-standing principles; Secretary of State James Baker met with Iraqi Foreign Minister Tariq Aziz in 1991 to give Saddam Hussein's regime one last chance before airstrikes commenced.

Such warnings run counter to the military advantages of a bolt-from-the-blue attack. And while American diplomats would argue cogently that Iran's mullahs might blink when confronted with such a dire warning, military planners would prefer surprise as a way to mitigate the dangers of an already risky and complex operation.

Obama would have to decide whether the legitimacy conferred by a last-ditch warning of an attack was worth the sacrifice of tactical advantage. In the end, the balance would probably tip in favor of the moral (rather than operational) considerations, because the spiraling tension and flow of military assets to the gulf would give Tehran all the warning it needed.

As it contemplated the use of force, the administration's decision-making would be further complicated by the need for a plan to unwind military hostilities and make sure a confrontation did not escalate out of control. The White House would have to signal to Tehran that the U.S. military objective was not to overthrow the clerical regime but to enforce the will of the international community by disabling Iran's nuclear program. The message would need to make clear that for the United States, hostilities would end with the destruction of Iran's nuclear facilities, but that if Iran retaliated, Washington would press its attacks until Tehran could no longer respond. A sobering thought not just for the mullahs, but also for a U.S. administration that would have to carry out the threat.

Administration planners might be tempted to assume that reason would prevail in Tehran -- that a chastised and crestfallen theocracy would confine its response to organizing large demonstrations while basking in the allegiance of a more unified nation and that privately, Iran's leaders would concede to the logic of power and desist from a conflict that their country could not win.

But prudence would lead the national security team to counsel the president to plan for a potentially prolonged conflict. The Iranian regime may find heightened nationalism useful in diverting attention from the deficiencies of its rule, but to mollify its public, the theocratic leadership may be pressed into a more open confrontation with the "Great Satan." Caution and circumspection evaporate in a tense atmosphere, and the uncertainty surrounding Iran's response to a strike would seriously burden the president's decision-making.

There are plausible developments that could render this scenario moot. Iran has notified the International Atomic Energy Agency that it is prepared to resume negotiations after Ramadan on the transfer of nuclear fuel to third countries for enrichment. And in the face of strong sanctions, the mullahs may well blink.

But to avoid the grim future postulated here, Iran would have to leave behind its peek-a-boo negotiating tactics and sign up for intrusive inspections and tight limits on its uranium enrichment activities. The record on this score is not encouraging, with decades of sanctions impeding but not blocking Iran's progress to nuclear weapons capability. Thus, the world imagined here may not constitute destiny -- but it will be hard to escape.

Steven Simon served on the National Security Council during the Clinton administration and is a co-author of the forthcoming "The Sixth Crisis: Iran, Israel, America, and the Rumors of War." Ray Takeyh is a former adviser to the Obama administration on Iran and the author of "Guardians of the Revolution: Iran and the World in the Age of the Ayatollahs." They are senior fellows at the Council on Foreign Relations.