PUBLIC SERVICE BEYOND THE ANGRY HALLS OF CONGRESS.

Byline: Arianna Huffington 

SO far, 36 members of the House and Senate - 25 Democrats and 11 Republicans - have voluntarily retired from the political arena, vowing never to return.

Each, of course, has a specific reason for leaving, but an unmistakable theme runs through their departing speeches: We want to continue in public service, they say; we just don't think elective office is the only, or even the best, way to do it anymore.

One of the most recent exits came stage right when Rep. Robert Walker, a close ally of House Speaker Newt Gingrich, announced his retirement last month.

"Some of us who helped foment this revolution should be a part of helping to explain it beyond the halls of Congress," Walker said. "One of the useful things I could do in the future is go out and talk to people about what it is we're doing here."

The weekend before that it was Rep. Kweisi Mfume who sent the political pundits stammering for explanations by disclosing plans to abandon a safe and influential congressional seat for a chance to oversee the NAACP.

With their departures and those of a slew of others - among them Pat Schroeder, Bill Bradley, Sam Nunn, Mark Hatfield, Nancy Kassebaum and Alan Simpson - the cavalcade off Capitol Hill is heading toward historic heights.

True, some offices are being emptied by Democrats who find battling the Republican insurgence a distasteful way to spend their days. But how to explain the departure of Republicans who should be enjoying their finest hour? And when liberal minds like Mfume's envision building a better society outside government, something is afoot much more profound than Democrats suddenly being miffed by minority status.

"Minority status doesn't trouble me," Mfume says. "I've had that most of my life." What's radical about Mfume's departure is that he believes he can have a greater impact on other people's lives, on economic empowerment and race relations, by revitalizing a civil rights organization, even an embattled one like the NAACP.

Mfume's move dramatizes a growing realization within the political class that the answers to our most intransigent social problems will be found in the communities where the problems occur.

"Everything we do in this country cannot be legislated," Mfume told me in explaining his decision. "A lot of it has to be taught and lived and learned. The nation is crying out for examples of that. It was important for me to understand that I still had the power to go outside the institution of Congress to help change the lives of people."

The timing of his decision coincides with the formation of the Center for New Black Leadership, a coalition of mostly conservative intellectuals and activists dedicated to a vision of market-oriented, community-based approaches to social problems.

At a time when the political debate on the Hill is becoming increasingly surreal, these changes are also redefining citizenship in ways that transcend casting a vote and lobbying the government to solve our problems. The recognition is dawning that we cannot simply legislate ourselves out of crises. We need to use the bully pulpit to galvanize the participation of millions of citizens who, out of force of habit, continue to delegate their social responsibility and compassion to government.

The solutions are all around us. But how do we make the connection between the policy debate on the front pages and the community-based solutions that are now relegated to the Metro pages?

That was the central question at a small dinner held by the Center for New Black Leadership in Washington earlier this month.

There was an overwhelming consensus in the room - among the 20 or so guests, including Colin Powell, Jack Kemp and Al From of the Democratic Leadership Council - that the crisis in our inner cities should be at the center of the public debate, as should efforts to spotlight and replicate programs that we know work.

This consensus was in sharp contrast to our national conversation, which seems focused on the mind-numbing budget battle, and on our favorite political blood sport: Your-scandal-is- worse-than-my-scandal.

Colin Powell captured the sense of urgency animating our discussion: "We are not interested in more programs to study these problems, but in ways to energize ourselves to deliver the solutions. These are not black problems. These are American problems."

He spoke of the desolation he experienced when he went back to the South Bronx neighborhood in which he grew up, and of the fact that there are condominiums a 15-minute drive from his old neighborhood that today would still not admit him.

"There are those who are able to migrate out," he said, "and the rest are more and more desperate. The problems cannot be fixed with marginal solutions. We need a resurrection of a sense of right and wrong. And nothing is going to work if we don't find substitutes for a nurturing community when the traditional institutions of the family and the church have broken down."

Powell also talked about the programs he has seen that work, like Best Friends, which provides alternatives for girls who might otherwise drift into early sex and unwanted pregnancies; and programs like Boys and Girls Clubs, and Big Brothers and Big Sisters that provide mentors for troubled children.

As a recent study of almost 1,000 youths by Philadelphia-based Public-Private Ventures showed, having a Big Brother or Big Sister in their lives reduced these youngsters' drug use and school absenteeism by half, and reduced violent behavior by a third.

Those gathered for the dinner had differing opinions on what role government should play in solving social problems, but agreement was unanimous on the need to remove governmental regulations that stifle the entrepreneurial spirit - not just in the interest of profit but in the interest of helping those in need.

Jack Kemp, congenitally incapable of pessimism, talked about the incredible opportunity available in the inner cities and about changes in the tax code that could help unleash economic development, create jobs, and bring a $700 billion underground economy above ground.

Kemp, who described himself as a "recovering politician," is among the growing number of public figures resisting calls to run for elective office.

Many of them are uniquely qualified to move the country instead through the power of rhetoric, persuasion and example. These are leadership qualities that have been vastly underestimated in a political climate focused on economic enticements through the beneficence of the state.

And maybe it is among those leaders, as well as the grass-roots heroes in the trenches of our inner cities, that the leadership needed to energize our communities will be found.