No one knows what will happen when the 64-member NAACP national board of directors meets here next week to consider the controversy swirling around Executive Director Benjamin F. Chavis Jr.

Dr. Chavis has been embroiled in one controversy or another almost from the moment he assumed his present post. First there was the flap over the deal he struck with Denny's owner Jerome J. Richardson in which he seemed to endorse rival Charlotte for an NFL expansion franchise. Next came his overtures to Nation of Islam Minister Louis Farrakhan and the uproar over a meeting of black radicals he held in Detroit last spring without the knowledge of his board. Now he is at the center of a messy financial scandal that involves charges of sexual harassment and discrimination, large sums paid out as "hush money" and open revolt among his board of directors.

Last May, Dr. Chavis took over an organization that was financially troubled, uncertain of its mission, yet still committed to lead the nation's 32 million African-Americans to a position of complete equality in American society.

Now, little more than a year later, his job is on the line. The special emergency meeting of the board scheduled for Aug. 20 will present Dr. Chavis with the most critical challenge of his career.

If he is able to convince the board that he should remain as head of the nation's oldest civil rights group, he could go on to a brilliant career comparable to those of such illustrious predecessors as Roy Wilkins and Walter White, who were nothing if not famous for embroiling themselves and the NAACP in the great controversies of their day.

Dr. Chavis himself was no stranger to controversy even before he came to the NAACP. As a youthful activist, he served five years in prison for participating in the protests that finally brought the civil rights movement to Wilmington, N.C., in the 1970s, years after such powerful bastions of segregation as Birmingham, Ala., had begun to yield to the repeated hammer blows of King and his followers in the Deep South.

But the controversy around Dr. Chavis today is of a quite different sort. It involves allegations by a female former employee of the NAACP of sexual harassment and discrimination, "hush money" and financial misfeasance that threaten to tear the organization apart.

Nothing could be worse for black Americans at this point in their history than for the NAACP to self-destruct. If anything, the magnitude of the problems confronting this generation of African-Americans is as great as at any time in their history in America.

Nearly half a century after the U.S. Supreme Court's historic Brown decision outlawed segregation in the public schools, half of all black children are growing up in families living below the federal poverty line.

The proportion of single-parent, female-headed households among blacks has more than doubled since 1960, to over 50 percent. Meanwhile black unemployment remains roughly twice that of whites, a ratio that has not significantly changed despite 30 years of government-mandated affirmative action and the passage of tough legislation banning discrimination in the workplace.

Dr. Chavis has plunged himself and the NAACP into these intractable problems, and he can even claim some successes in beginning to address them. He managed to weather the storm over his embrace of Minister Farrakhan as an ally in the broader civil rights struggle, despite criticism that reaching out to the separatist leader implied an acceptance of views that were anathema to many white Americans, especially Jews.

The crisis confronting the NAACP board today goes far deeper )) than the question of whether Dr. Chavis improperly used organization funds to settle a claim of sexual harassment and discrimination by a former employee. It involves nothing less than the future direction of the organization in a new era in which the stakes and the rules of the game have all changed.

The board itself is something of an anachronism. It is stacked with elderly members who derive considerable prestige from their positions of importance and their association with the venerable NAACP name, but most of whom are far removed from the day-to-day workings of the organization.

Whatever the board members eventually decide, they will have to face a fundamental dilemma. If, for example, they chose to stand behind Dr. Chavis, the organization could find it even more difficult to raise funds from wealthy white supporters and corporate sponsors.

With the group already facing a $3.3 million deficit this year, the prospect of a fall-off in contributions threatens to push the group into insolvency.

Dr. Chavis claims to have increased the NAACP's membership by 200,000 over the last year, a substantial jump that includes many younger people as well as more militant blacks -- from Pan-Africanists and cultural nationalists to rap musicians and gang members -- and whose views had fallen outside the traditional integrationist framework of the NAACP. Yet some have questioned whether the new membership has actually resulted in increased revenues for the organization, or even whether the apparent increase in membership is real.

If the board decides to ask for Dr. Chavis' resignation -- which may not be very likely, but is still clearly a possibility it must consider -- its members will immediately be faced with the problem of who should replace him.

After a year on the job, and despite all the controversy he has endured, Dr. Chavis has nevertheless emerged as a leader rivaling the Rev. Jesse L. Jackson in his ability to command national attention.

The board considered and rejected the idea of naming Mr. Jackson executive director last year. But the potential pool of candidates is not large, and it may not be easy to persuade another candidate of comparable stature -- say, former Virginia Gov. L. Douglas Wilder or former U.N. Ambassador Andrew Young -- to take the job given the by now well-publicized potential for friction between the executive director and the national governing board.

Moreover, not only is the potential pool of candidates relatively small, whoever gets the job is virtually certain to find himself embroiled in controversy even before he takes office. The press will demand to know whether he intends to honor the alliances with Minister Farrakhan and other radical leaders initiated by Dr. Chavis. Yet whatever any future NAACP leader decides is bound to get him into trouble. If he says he will continue on the path set by Dr. Chavis, he could face continued financial uncertainty and criticism from Jews and others who find Minister Farrakhan's anti-white, anti-Semitic rhetoric abhorrent. But if he cuts his ties with the radicals, he will be accused of selling out other blacks to curry favor among whites. Either way he would risk burdening his tenure with such fiscal and political disadvantages that severely limit his effectiveness.

Not that the the national board itself could hope to escape the consequences of another failed or crippled executive director. The crisis provoked by the the latest round of allegations ultimately reflects on the credibility and competence of the national board itself and its president, William F. Gibson. It is even possible that Dr. Gibson could find himself swept away with Dr. Chavis if his opponents on the board can muster the strength to mount a serious challenge next week -- though his actual replacement might not occur for several months more.

Dr. Gibson's departure would signal the beginning of a thoroughgoing reconstitution of the present board, as many of his elderly supporters were gradually forced out and a new, younger generation of activists assumed control.

What is certain is that there seems to be no turning back for the NAACP. Whether it keeps Dr. Chavis and the course he has set or replaces him with someone else, the organization has reached an important crossroads. At stake are not only its own future direction and effectiveness but in a real sense the long-term prospects of the civil rights movement in America.

Glenn McNatt writes editorials for The Baltimore Sun.