Nikki Haley

[G.Subramaniam]

Then, hearing that State Representative Larry Koon would be retiring in 2004, she jumped into the race. But Mr. Koon stayed in. At the time, Lexington County, just outside Columbia, was in the throes of transition from a rural community to a suburban, affluent one with many newcomers. The changing voter base may be one reason that the racial and religious attacks against Ms. Haley backfired.



Still, the attacks were so virulent that the state Republican Party condemned Mr. Koon, said Katon Dawson, who was the party chairman at the time.



Ms. Haley called Mr. Dawson to consult. “She asked, ‘Is it worth it? You’re the chairman of the party. You tell me — is it worth all this?’ ” he said. He arranged for Jenny Sanford, then the state’s first lady, to give her a pep talk. They talked, and Ms. Sanford recalled in an interview that she was impressed. She is now a Haley supporter.



Ms. Haley, dressed for a day of campaigning in a brown silk suit from Exotica, comes across as disciplined and competitive, whether talking about her prowess at video games — “I’m the Wii queen” — or her plans for tax reform, financial disclosure and term limits. She talks as if she already has won.



“I can’t wait until January, where people see that we actually get things done the very first year,” she said.



Ms. Haley became part of a small cadre of small-government advocates who are ideologically aligned with Gov. Mark Sanford and at odds with the rest of the state’s Republican establishment, whom they accuse of abandoning conservative principles. Like Mr. Sanford, she has repeatedly taken her case to the public, sometimes embarrassing legislative leaders and helping her develop a loyal following. And, as with Mr. Sanford, that has led to accusations of grandstanding.



“I’m a fan of the old Nikki Haley,” said Harry F. Cato, a Republican representative from Travelers Rest and the House’s speaker pro tempore. “The new Nikki Haley became more of a P.R. machine.”



But her supporters view her as a fighter. Ms. Haley proved willing to alienate legislative leaders when she went public with a fight to force legislators to conduct roll-call votes, rather than anonymous voice votes, she was removed from a powerful committee of which she was vying to be chairwoman. Both houses of the Legislature eventually passed rules requiring more recorded votes.



Just before the primary for governor, two men came forward saying that they had affairs with her, and a fellow lawmaker called her a “raghead.” But the episodes only played into Ms. Haley’s underdog narrative.



“The more those guys fight her, the more emboldened she gets,” said Ashley Landess, a friend and the president of a policy group that helped push the roll-call issue. “They are making a big mistake in thinking they can threaten her into submission. That won’t work.”