The great black hope.

"THE DAY I TURNED 13 and sent away to become a youth member of the NAACP was just a glorious, happy moment," Georgia Rep. John R. Lewis, now 56, told BE during the NAACP's 80th anniversary in 1989. "When you said that the NAACP was coming to town or was going into Alabama or Mississippi, it meant that you were going to get some support. If something happened to you and people said they were going to call the NAACP, it was like manna from heaven."

Fast-forward to 1995: "If you went to the streets and asked the average person who's sticking up for their interests, you would hear `Farrakhan' or `Jesse' before [you'd hear] the NAACP," says New York respiratory therapist Charmel Rogers, 27, only days after Kweisi Mfume was named president and CEO of the civil rights organization in December. "If a racial it goes down, going to this Al Sharpton or any number of people, but I'm not sure the NAACP would even come to mind."

When Kweisi Mfume was the new leader of the NAACP, he was compared to African American heroes such as Martin Luther King, Thurgood Marshall, Mary McLeod Bethune and W.E.B. DuBois. It may take the moral authority, aggressiveness, compassion and intellect of all of those people to restore the NAACP to its glory and to rekindle the lost faith of younger African Americans.

The challenges Mfume faces as the leader and primary spokesperson of the 86-year-old civil rights organization are far more complex than erasing a $3.2 million deficit. Painful memories of infighting, fiscal mismanagement and scandal resulting from the revelation that Mfume's predecessor, the Rev. Ben Chavis, used organization funds - without the knowledge of the NAACP board - to settle a sexual harassment suit against him all must be dealt with as well. In order for Mfume to succeed, he must inspire in Rogers' generation the pride and loyalty to the NAACP that Lewis' generation felt more than 40 years ago.

MISSING IN ACT ON

While a dominant force under Roy Wilkins during the civil rights struggles of the `60s and '70s, the organization has been increasingly missing in action since the early '80s. The NAACP achieved its last major victory when it lobbied hard - and successfully - against the nomination of Robert Bork to the Supreme Court in 1987. Even the organization's own fact sheet leaves a 20-year gap - between the passage of the Voting Rights Act in 1965 and the establishment of SAT preparation clinics in 1985 - in its list of historical highlights. The question being asked by Rogers and others of his generation born after the 1965 Voting Rights Act is, what have you done for us lately?

The fact is, while many may view the NAACP as a relic of the past, the organization's crusade on behalf of rights and opportunities for minorities may be needed now more than ever. As the Republican-controlled House and Senate wage open war on civil rights legislation and seta-sides, and as police corruption and the false arrests of African Americans plague cities from Philadelphia to Los Angeles, African Americans are waiting for the NAACP to step up to the plate - particularly as the 1996 presidential election approaches.

The Mfume era is scheduled to officially begin when he reports to work at the NAACP's Baltimore headquarters on February 15. As president and CEO, Mfume will be responsible for all day-to-day operations, including fund-raising efforts, strategic and financial planning and supervision of the national staff.

Mfume is certainly not your father's civil rights leader. At age 47, Mfume is younger than either Wilkins or the Rev. Benjamin Hooks were (54 and 52) when they were named to head the organization. Mfume's predecessors, including Chavis, evolved as civil rights activists with little experience within the power structures of American business and politics. By contrast, Mfume's resume boasts a decade of success in Congress, including a stint as chairman of the Congressional Black Caucus and service on the committees of Banking and Financial Services and Small Business.

There are other encouraging signs that Mfume will bring a new perspective to the NAACP's agenda. While the NAACP did not endorse October's Million Man March, Mfume not only spoke at the gathering of more than 1 million black men in Washington, but he was an organizer for the state of Maryland. And Mfume is testing public receptiveness to the idea of updating the name of the NAACP: "Perhaps the National African American Coalition for Progress might be more appropriate," he suggests. Such a change could send a strong signal to the many African Americans who view the use of the term colored as evidence that the organization remains mesmerized by its past struggles and triumphs.

MILLION MEMBER MARCH

At the NAACP Annual Conference in Minneapolis in July, Chairwoman Myrlie Evers-Williams launched an emergency membership mobilization drive. Its two-fold aim: recruiting 500,000 new members, while renewing the 500,000 current members on the NAACP's roster by January 15, 1996. If successful, Mfume will be expected to lead the seven regions and 2,200 branches of the NAACP on a million-member march into the 21st century.

In order to succeed, Mfume must convert the perception of the NAACP from a lumbering, out-of-step civil rights institution to a progressive, responsive and coordinated force for economic and political empowerment. Charles Allen, president and co-founder of Graimark Inc. in Detroit and a lifetime member of the organization, says he understands what's been missing. "Its appeal is lost to a certain generation because they spend too much time dealing with residual issues of civil rights and integration," says Allen, who is active in the organization's Detroit branch. "The national office has to be more inclusive and address problems that face our community today, like access to jobs and economic opportunity."

Mfume and Evers-Williams have already begun this process by reporting to a 17-member executive committee, instead of facing the near-impossible task of gaining consensus from an often contentious, 64-member board. That Mfume's title is president and CEO, not executive director, represents the businesslike efficiency he hopes will come to characterize the new NAACP.

Mfume also plans to tap into the economic power of the black professional class, the generation of African Americans who benefited most from the NAACP's effectiveness in the '60s and '70s. "I will be looking to black businesses, as well as wealthy individuals such as athletes and entertainers, to make contributions to the organization," Mfume told BE. Mfume also plans to lead African Americans on a campaign of "disciplined consumerism," aimed at leveraging the $400 billion in black consumer spending power into greater corporate support of both the NAACP and the economic ambitions of minorities.

Most importantly, Mfume must create a plan of action for African Americans to rally around as the struggle for equality advances into the 21st century. The majority of African Americans interviewed by BE say they could get behind the organization if it simply adopted an initiative or agenda to push forward. Audrey Rice Oliver, president and CEO of Integrated Business Solutions Inc., a $10 million computer systems company in San Ramon, Calif., let her NAACP membership lapse 10 years ago. She says there was never a reason to renew before, but now she's taking a wait-and-see attitude.

"While I like what the NAACP stands for, I didn't renew because the organization just was not as progressive as I thought it should be," Oliver explains. "But I'm hoping under Mfume's leadership there will be an opportunity for the organization to expand its horizons."

ONE-ON-ONE WITH KWEISI MFUME

The new president and CEO of the NAACP spoke to BLACK ENTERPRISE's Eric Smith about his decision to leave Congress and the future of the NAACP.

BE: What do you see yourself accomplishing in your role as president of the NAACP that you could not accomplish as a member of Congress?

MFUME: In Congress, I could continue to wage the battle of being a minority party member fighting against a majority party and representing only one congressional district. Or, I could take advantage of the umbrella of the NAACP, effectively organize in 90% of all congressional districts around this country and challenge firsthand the representatives who vote against the interests of our community and who slow our economic empowerment.

BE: The NAACP is perceived by many as having outlived its usefulness or lacking a strong voice on important issues affecting African Americans. How do you go about changing that perception?

MFUME: The first thing you have to do before anything else is get your house in order. My first priority is to put in place an apparatus that will allow for absolute fiscal accountability that is beyond reproach. I want people to know that, from this point on, we will never be in a position of having to explain fiscal problems for whatever reasons and why proper follow-up was not done.

BE: Did you participate in the Million Man March?

MFUME: I was a co-organizer in Maryland. I brought my sons there that day and spoke on the platform.

BE: There was also criticism directed at the NAACP for choosing not to endorse the March. Is this an indication of how out of touch the NAACP had become?

MFUME: I think it speaks to an absence of leadership. In the absence of a president or, at that time, executive director, it's much more difficult to find consensus.

BE: How much professional risk is involved in leaving a position where you've had great success and went virtually unchallenged for years to head an organization that's been labeled as outdated and in turmoil?

MFUME: I've never been concerned with walking away from things that I have if it means walking toward something that I believe. So I don't see it being the absolute pinnacle of success and achievement just to be a member of Congress. I've served with too many who aren't doing enough, and quite frankly, those seats could be held by better people with better agendas.

BE: Do you envision an eventual return to the political scene and, if so, how high are your aspirations?

MFUME: That door is wide open. I don't close doors. At some point in time, circumstances might dictate that [reentering politics] becomes a possibility. I'm going to work relentlessly to do what I have to do. However, life is so unpredictable; we can't say what we're going to do in the future. But that door is wide open and we'll have to see what happens.