Filler: S. Carolina defies easy description

It was 12 years ago, at a forum for Republican presidential candidates in Aiken, S.C., that George Stephanopoulos of ABC News turned to me, and seeing my media credential was from the local paper, asked, "So what's the deal with South Carolina?"

Stephanopoulos seemed kindly. My wife got his autograph and said he was "so cute you want to put him in your pocket and take him home." But the hundreds of national journalists who swoop into the state every four years, gobble barbecue, make fun of grits, ask a few questions, then transmit to the rest of the nation their version of "the deal with South Carolina," usually get it wrong, just as I suspect they do with Iowa, New Hampshire and every other area where farmers are more common than investment bankers.

There are two "facts" you will find in practically every network story and national column emanating from South Carolina's Republican presidential primary, set for Saturday:

Since South Carolina established its primary in 1980, every Republican who won it has gotten the nomination.

South Carolina's Republicans are far more evangelical and conservative than those in the nation as a whole.

That these statements can't both be true never occurs to the pundits who assert them. If the state primary always selects the same candidate as the national process, South Carolina's Republicans don't vote more evangelical and conservative than the national party.

The state went for Sen. John McCain, not the Rev. Mike Huckabee, in 2008. It chose Bob Dole over the frothing Pat Buchanan in 1996 and George H.W. Bush over Buchanan in 1992. And in 1988, both Papa Bush and Dole beat evangelist Pat Robertson in South Carolina like he owed them money.

South Carolina Republican Gov. Nikki Haley is a first-generation Indian American whose full name is Nimrata Nikki Randhawa Haley. She attends both Methodist and Sikh houses of worship. The South Carolina being described in the news this week never would have elected her.

The governor before Haley, Republican Mark Sanford, was a semi-libertarian who honored the pinched penny above all and was more likely to be found studying The Federalist Papers than the Good Book. The only time Sanford looked to God while in office was after he got caught having an affair in South America and realized it might take a deity to stop his wife, legendary tool-manufacturing heiress and tough gal Jenny Sanford, from beating him to death with their prenuptial agreement.

The politics of South Carolina are dauntingly complex. Three counties hold 40 percent of the state's GOP voters and have the highest per-capita foreign investment of any region in the United States, hosting BMW, Adidas, Fuji, Michelin and hundreds of other international concerns. Columbia, the capital, and surrounding counties are a mix of rural and urban, black and white, educated and not. The Lowcountry, anchored by Charleston, is one of the last regions in the South to boast a considerable number of white (and staunchly conservative) elected Democrats. And the entire state is in constant flux, thanks to a swift inflow of Yankees looking to retire and Hispanics looking for work.

Making it even harder to figure, the state has no voter registration by party. Democrats and independents are just as welcome to participate in this primary as Republicans.

South Carolina will likely pick the victor once again. If Romney wins, as is highly probable, the nomination is his. If Gingrich wins, as is mildly possible, Perry and Santorum will follow Huntsman out of the race and Gingrich could well get the nod -- though it may go to the convention.

And the national media will be back next time, full of questions and barbecue, reducing a fascinating state to caricature.

Lane Filler is a member of the Newsday editorial board.