What Can You Learn from the Moral Failing of the NAACP?

While the recent moral failing of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) is distressing to all who oppose bigotry, the situation offers seven important lessons for every nonprofit organization.

Before I get to those critical lessons, let me offer you some background.

It’s been 75 years since the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau as well as the other concentration and extermination camps run by the Nazis to murder Europe’s Jewish population and others. Now, three-quarters of a century later, liberals and conservatives continue to find common ground by embracing anti-Semitism.

For its part, the NAACP has failed to fire Rodney Muhammad, President of the NAACP Philadelphia chapter, following his anti-Jewish social media posting in defense of anti-Semitism. The NAACP headquarters has not apologized for Muhammad’s comments, nor has it insisted that he apologize. Nationally, the NAACP’s inaction shows it condones anti-Jewish rhetoric while, at the local level, Muhammad and his board have turned the Philadelphia chapter into a hate group.

On July 24, 2020, the news website BillyPenn first reported on Muhammad’s anti-Semitic Facebook post from July 23:

[On] Muhammad’s public Facebook page, the meme referenced the backlash against Eagles wide receiver DeSean Jackson, actor/rapper Ice Cube and comedian/TV host Nick Cannon, who have all attracted attention recently for advancing theories that blame Jewish people for the plight of Black Americans. Cannon and Jackson have since apologized for their recent posts, while Ice Cube doubled down.”

Muhammad shared the meme as a defense of sorts on behalf of Jackson, Cannon, and Ice Cube:

The post included a caricature of a Jewish man wearing a yarmulke and pressing a large, bejeweled hand down on a faceless mass of people. Similar caricatures trace back to before the Holocaust, and were often used to depict Jews as a force of greed and oppression. Next to the image was a quote falsely attributed to French philosopher Voltaire: ‘To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you are not allowed to criticize.’”

After being questioned by a BillyPenn reporter, Muhammad removed the post while denying any memory of having shared it. Later, he issued defensive statements that were devoid of apology. The closest he came was an expression of “regret.”

In the meantime, a number of community and religious leaders have called for Muhammad to either resign or be removed from his position. For example, Gov. Tom Wolf, Attorney General Josh Shapiro, and State Sen. Anthony Williams joined the calls for Muhammad’s removal. While the Pennsylvania NAACP condemned Muhammad’s action, Kenneth Huston, President of the state conference, said that he was powerless to take any action which would have to come, instead, from national headquarters.

Unfortunately, the NAACP national office delayed its response by more than a week. Furthermore, its tepid statement supported Muhammad. Making matters worse, the NAACP headquarters has apparently failed to provide any direction to the Philadelphia chapter, according to WHYY:

Bishop J. Louis Felton, first vice president of the Philadelphia branch, said in an email that local leadership has not gotten any direction from the NAACP national office on the issue. ‘Congratulations on actually getting a response from the National office, as we certainly could not,’ said Felton.”

The Jewish Exponent reported on some of the community reaction:

‘We are truly saddened,’ the Pennsylvania Jewish Coalition said in a statement, ‘by such a prominent leader’s rejection of this alliance and inexcusable failure to recognize his own role in perpetuating racist stereotypes.’ The Philadelphia Muslim Jewish Circle of Friends, convened by the American Jewish Committee, asserted that Muhammad’s actions were ‘in direct violation of the very principles upon which the NAACP was founded.’”

So, what can we learn from the NAACP’s moral failing?

“Philanthropy” Is NOT What You Think It Is

Do you understand what the word “philanthropy” really means? If you don’t, it could be costing your nonprofit organization a fortune in lost support. Conversely, once you know the true meaning of “philanthropy,” you’ll be better able to relate to prospective donors and inspire them to give. So, what does the word truly mean?

If you’re like most people, you probably think you know what “philanthropy” means. “Philanthropy” involves a large contribution to a nonprofit organization from a wealthy individual, a philanthropist. A recent example of this would be Michael Bloomberg’s recent announcement that he is donating $1.8 billion to Johns Hopkins University, the largest individual donation ever made to a single university.

However, that understanding of “philanthropy” is entirely too narrow. Let me explain by first telling you what “philanthropy” is not. Philanthropy does not necessarily involve:

• donating vast sums of money;
• supporting large numbers of charities;
• sitting on nonprofit boards;
• only wealthy people.

Coming from the ancient Greek, here is what the word “philanthropy” actually means:

Love of humanity.

Signs of support appeared throughout Pittsburgh following the murders at Tree of Life * Or L’Simcha Congregation.

Think about that. People donate their time and money to nonprofit organizations because of their love of humanity (or animals). They want to solve problems and alleviate suffering. They want to make the world a better place. That’s what motivates people to think philanthropically.

People won’t think philanthropically simply because it’s Giving Tuesday, and you tell them they should. They won’t think philanthropically just because they attended your university and are told they should “give back.” They won’t think philanthropically just because your organization exists and is a household name.

If you tap into a person’s love of humanity, you’ll tap into their philanthropic spirit. That’s how you’ll inspire their support. That’s how you’ll upgrade their support. That’s how you’ll maintain their support.

Charitable giving is an expression of a donor’s love.

I was reminded recently of the true power of the  philanthropic spirit. It wasn’t Bloomberg’s massive gift, though that was definitely amazing. Instead, when I visited Pittsburgh, I was reminded of the power of love to build, and rebuild, strong communities.

Temporary memorial outside of Tree of Life * Or L’Simcha Congregation.

When my wife and I traveled to Pittsburgh a couple of weeks ago, we attended evening Sabbath services with the congregants of the Tree of Life * Or L’Simcha Congregation in their temporary home. This was less than two weeks after a gunman entered the synagogue and horrifically murdered 11 people as they worshiped. Praying with the congregants, talking with them, and meeting Rabbi Hazzan Jeffrey Myers was a profoundly moving experience. Making the evening even more moving was the fact that it fell on the 80^th anniversary of Kristallnacht, also known as the Night of Broken Glass. During Kristallnacht in Nazi Germany, Jews were murdered and synagogues and Jewish-owned businesses were vandalized and had their windows smashed.

Support came from around the world.

Rabbi Myers drew a parallel between Kristallnacht and the recent attack that nearly took his life. Both violent attacks were motivated by rabid anti-Semitism, which has been on the rise in America since 2014. However, Rabbi Myers also drew meaningful distinctions between the two events.

During Kristallnacht, officially sanctioned groups along with German civilians attacked the Jewish population. Local authorities did nothing to stop the attacks. The police protected non-Jewish citizens while arresting and imprisoning Jewish victims.

By contrast, American authorities condemned the Pittsburgh attack immediately, and offered comfort to the victims. People throughout Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the United States, and the world expressed their sense of horror and grief. They offered words of condolence, and made donations to help the families and to rebuild the badly damaged synagogue. The police in Pittsburgh ran toward the danger, put their own lives at risk, confronted the attacker, and ended what could have been an even more tragic event.