Artur Davis is running to become the next governor of Alabama. He’s a young, energetic politician from Birmingham with a Harvard law degree who has decided to leave a safe seat in the U.S. Congress to try for a bigger prize. Davis epitomizes optimism and promise, even in the face of his biggest challenge yet.

“We don’t have any illusions about race,” he says. “We absolutely know for a group of voters that race will be an inaccessible fact. Most of those voters I’m not going to reach. But the whole premise is that there are enough voters left over who are willing to move beyond their racial bias.”

Davis is one of a new breed of black politicians, according to Gwen Ifill, author of The Breakthrough: Politics and Race in the Age of Obama(Doubleday, 2009). Ifill is the moderator and managing editor of “Washington Week,” the longest-running primetime news and public affairs program on television, as well as senior correspondent of “The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer.”

In her book, Ifill discusses the evolution of black political structures and their future in American politics, drawing on a series of interviews with an array of black politicians—including the man whose name graces the title, President Obama—to assess the gains these leaders have made and the challenges they face. The book highlights several “breakthrough” politicians who, as children of the civil rights movement, comprise what Obama has called “the Joshua generation.” These politicians have often grown up in middle class families, attended elite universities, and—unlike their predecessors—made their voices heard less from the streets than from the suites, says Lisa Borders, a former CEO of LMB LLC, a consulting firm, who is currently running for mayor of Atlanta.

Ifill points the generational differences between this newer crop of young political achievers and their elder counterparts, whose rise was steeped in the black church and civil rights movement. The big names, like the Rev. Jesse Jackson, Vernon Jordan, John Lewis and Colin Powell, are now in their sixties and seventies. The distance of this new generation, who are predominantly in their thirties and forties, from the high-stakes days of the civil rights movement, is a cause of concern for some. “If you go to the inner city, nothing has changed,” Jackson told Ifill, describing his own generation as the “demolition crew” that cleared the way for today’s rising black political stars.

Ifill’s findings, however, fall short of a comprehensive analysis, amounting to a snapshot that fails to address a key question to what is essentially a political work in progress: how much more effective will this new group be in developing public policy, and how will this help make improvements in the lives of their African American constituents?

“The problem is ‘black interests’—whatever those are—are definitely broader than just descriptive representation, and different groups of blacks have different, legitimate interests,” says Andra Gillespie, assistant professor of political science at Emory University. If the young cohort of blacks politicians only represents a small subset of those interests (say, the interests of black men or middle class blacks), says Gillespie, then this generation is not serving the interests of all blacks.

“The other big question is whether racially moderate candidates can address racial issues once in office,” Gillespie continues. “Some whites who vote for moderate black candidates may balk when that moderate black official aggressively challenges the racial status quo. We have seen that happen recently with the backlash against President Obama for defending [Harvard professor] Skip Gates. This type of reaction may make him gun-shy to speak out on racial issues in the future.”

Gillespie, who is under contract with Rutledge Press to edit a new volume of work to be published later this year entitled Whose Black Politics? Cases in Post-Racial Black Leadership, shares Ifill’s concerns about the effectiveness of this younger generation of black politicians.

“Newer black politicians are definitely more business-friendly than their predecessors,” Gillespie notes. “The big, unanswered question is who will benefit from this posture? The politicians claim that these relationships can contribute to economic development and jobs for struggling black communities. Critics argue that business leaders are attracted to these young leaders because they will not challenge structural racism and will allow businesses to exploit communities of color for profit. In all honesty, many of these officials haven’t held office long enough for us to adequately assess who is right.”

These are not your parents’ black politicians, whose opportunities for elective office were forged in the pews of the black church, the civil rights struggle, or the segregated labor movement that spawned a black professional class remaining largely separate but unequal in the eyes of white society. This new breed, whether it’s Michael Coleman, mayor of Columbus, Ohio, Kamala Harris, San Francisco’s district attorney, or Deval Patrick, governor of Massachusetts, represents a more diverse and demanding electorate.

More importantly, the proverbial ceiling has been lifted, thanks to the 2008 election of the nation’s first African American to the White House. As Ifill puts it, “the bench [of black elected officials] is deep—crammed elbow to elbow with mayors, state lawmakers, and other rising stars poised to grab at the next brass ring.”

But the path to the top, as Ifill and scholars like Gillespie know full well, is not an easy road. Like their predecessors, today’s next generation of black politicians face tough challenges and complicated issues.

“The first urban mayors took over decaying cities with shrinking tax and employment bases,” says Gillespie. “Structurally, they couldn’t deliver on all of their campaign promises. Today, the new crop of mayors faces the same set of problems because of the economic crisis. It will no doubt delay their ability to empower their residents to have all the tools they need to live lives unencumbered by poverty and structural racism.”

This nation has yet to reach its “post-racial” potential where political “firsts” are a thing of the past and where ability and merit trump race. Today’s up-and-coming black politicians remain painfully aware of this reality. “Everybody has a balance beam to walk,” U.S. Rep. Kendrick Meek (D-Fla.) tells Ifill. “But, when you’re black, you’re in uniform. You’re not undercover.”

The good news is that America now has a more diverse, and arguably a more talented, array of black elected officials eager to help the nation reach its goals.