In a clever ad for Sprint, a middle-aged executive sits behind his desk, touting the advantages of his new cellular phone plan to a younger assistant. "It's my little way of sticking it to the man," the executive says.

"But you are the man," notes the younger assistant.

Something about that commercial makes me think of former Atlanta Mayor Bill Campbell, whose trial on corruption charges began this week with jury selection. During his tenure, Campbell was combative with critics -- flying into a rage, denouncing his enemies, calling for retribution.

But his oddest defense was to portray himself as a downtrodden black man being persecuted by powerful white forces --- another Kunta Kinte. Lashing out at federal investigators nearly six years ago, Campbell said, "The FBI has never been a friend of the African-American community, and they're not a friend now . . . . I don't know that Africans-Americans have ever had any confidence in the FBI."

There is nothing downtrodden about Campbell. He is polished, sophisticated and well-educated, a graduate of Vanderbilt University and the School of Law at Duke University. He is currently a partner at the Stuart, Fla., law firm of Willie Gary, renowned as a plaintiff's attorney.

Before he was elected mayor, he was a federal prosecutor, then an attorney in private practice. He was also elected to the Atlanta City Council, where he was floor leader for former Mayor Maynard Jackson.

In Atlanta, Campbell lived in a middle-class, predominantly white neighborhood, Inman Park, and sent his children to a trendy (and expensive) private school, Paideia. Because of security protocols, police officers were often posted just outside his home. His lifestyle was redolent of success.

Campbell was the man.

But, like so many high-profile criminal defendants before him, Campbell wants observers to believe he is the innocent victim of racist, overzealous prosecutors who won't tolerate successful black men. That defense is almost as dated as wide ties and leisure suits. It doesn't even work for Marion Barry anymore.

It was a spectacular failure for former state Sen. Charles Walker, who was convicted last summer on 127 counts of fraud and corruption. He had long claimed that any accusations against him were merely an attempt by a cabal of white Republicans to bring down an influential black Democrat. A racially mixed jury didn't think so.

There is a good reason the oppressed-black-man defense doesn't work the magic that it once did: Times have changed. The federal investigation into Campbell's activities began before former President Bill Clinton left office. At the time, Richard Deane, who is black, was the U.S. attorney in Atlanta, and Theodore Jackson, who is also black, headed the FBI's Atlanta office. They were unlikely figures in any scheme to target black politicians.

Besides, there are countless successful black men (and women) in this country -- from politicians to professional athletes to prominent business executives -- many of whom have accomplished much more than Campbell ever did. Nobody is out to get them.

(The persecuted-black-man defense does have a recent success to its credit. Richard Scrushy, the founder of Birmingham-based HealthSouth, a rehabilitation services company, masqueraded as an innocent black man being hounded by a wicked government to escape conviction on several counts of fraud last year. Strangely, Scrushy is white.)

There is a much more plausible reason for the feds' interest in Campbell than government persecution: He ran the most corrupt City Hall in modern Atlanta history. So far, the City Hall investigation has led to convictions or guilty pleas for a dozen people, including several top city officials. They include Herbert McCall, who headed the Department of Administrative Services; Larry Wallace, former chief operating officer and longtime personal friend of Campbell's; and Joseph Reid, former deputy chief operating officer.

Like all Americans, black or white, Campbell is entitled to a presumption of innocence. And, like all well-heeled Americans, black or white, he can afford a high-priced team of lawyers who will do all they can to create reasonable doubt in the jurors. But he is not entitled to any special consideration just because he's black.