Just over two years into his term in office, President Obama is finally having his moment.
He circumvented the state laws in Hawaii last week to release his long-form birth certificate, a major coup against the birther contingent that had been gaining momentum again through the inane ramblings of Donald Trump. A trump card indeed.
Earlier this week, the Navy SEALs' Team 6 executed the ultimate targeted mission when it located and eliminated Osama Bin Laden, immortalized forever in popular Western imagination as the epitome of 21st century evil incarnate.
He was ostensibly the mastermind behind the September 11 attacks, carried out by members of al-Qaeda. Since his death, Obama's approval ratings soared to 57 percent, an increase from last month's 46 percent.
The War on Terrorism (or the "War on Terror," as it was coined by President George W. Bush) became focused on destroying al-Qaeda cells and bringing Bin Laden to justice.
Although he was wanted "dead or alive," the distinction is ultimately meaningless, as his identity and image became so fraught with emotion and political weight that resolution could only be achieved through his death.
What does his assassination mean for the future of the War on Terrorism? The term itself is problematic, for while it has included the war in Afghanistan and Iraq, eliminating terrorism—to the limited extent that is possible—has more to do with counterintelligence than military involvement.
The invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq and the installations of democratic governments in each have improved conditions to an extent, although the idea that Americans and NATO forces have liberated either is a myth.
Iraq itself has no connection to al-Qaeda, despite pronouncements in the early years of the occupation connecting Saddam Hussein to terrorist cells in the area. More to the point, soldiers from the United States and elsewhere are now targets for insurgent activity.
It is not unreasonable to suggest that American involvement in the Middle East has strengthened the resolve of terrorist groups such as al-Qaeda.
The presence of soldiers from the United States has given Bin Laden and other leaders such as Khalid Sheikh Mohammed a platform for their doctrine and a rallying cry for those who subscribe to their beliefs.
The problem with assuming the death of Bin Laden will lead to the end of his extremist policies is the notion that terrorism is connected to a figurehead. Bin Laden is replaceable, and therein lies the problem.
On the other hand, Bin Laden's death is a relief to many Americans, including those who lost family members in the attacks of September 11, 2001. He had become the emblem of everything the United States rejects, from tyrannical oppression to wanton violence to a connection between doctrine and religion.
At his "Where Do We Go From Here?" speech in Atlanta in 1967, Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke the following words: "I'm concerned about a better world. I'm concerned about justice; I'm concerned about brotherhood; I'm concerned about truth. And when one is concerned about that, he can never advocate violence. For through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can't murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can't establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can't murder hate through violence. Darkness cannot put out darkness; only light can do that."
We will struggle to reconcile these words with our inherent relief and joy at the news of Bin Laden's death.
May 2, 2011 ushered in a new surge of patriotism as we marveled over the bravery of Team 6 and the soldiers in Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iraq. Ultimately, however, it is our collective rejection of Bin Laden's fundamental worldview, not his death, which unites us as Americans.