They like Mike?

Don't look now, but Mike Huckabee might successfully climb into (the bottom of) the top tier of Republican presidential candidates. Although the reaction most commonly elicited in mentioning the former Arkansas governor's name is "Who?," he no doubt hopes that will start to change.

The media is beginning to give the idea some play; in last Friday's New York Times, columnist David Brooks argued that Huckabee was in fact a first-tier candidate. But conventional wisdom within the Beltway and elsewhere along the East Coast may be out of touch with the reality on the ground in Iowa and New Hampshire (not to say I'm in touch with said conventional wisdom), and that means that they may be a little late in getting on this particular bandwagon.

In truth, Huckabee started to make real waves back on an exceedingly muggy August day in Ames, Iowa. Once every four years, this central Iowa town becomes the center of the political universe thanks to its famous straw poll.

Like much of politics, the straw poll is a scripted affair: think Boss Tweed in a cornfield under the bright lights of the media. Candidates pay the registration fees for their supporters and bus them in. Supporters then vote for their patron and enjoy the atmosphere; the candidates hope to capture some of that immeasurable thing called momentum, a topic of fascination among political junkies. There, Huckabee spent next to nothing yet still pulled out a surprising second-place finish, which he made out to be nothing short of miraculous. In last weekend's Values Voters straw poll, Huckabee again finished second-this time being edged by a mere 30 votes.

Why Huckabee? His name, it must be admitted, is among the most un-presidential in recent memory. But that's part of his appeal: he's not a dynastic heir, his walls are unadorned by Ivy League degrees, he's never had an office on Capitol Hill. In fact, he's something of an everyman and possesses the requisite accompanying life story (the first in his family to graduate high school, paid his way through college working 40 hours a week). This is reflected in his message, which may be the most populist of any Republican candidate; on issues such as trade and healthcare, he occasionally sounds more like a Democrat than a Republican.

He's also a Baptist minister. Thus, he not only says the right things on social issues, but has been saying them for years; he has not been subject to (to paraphrase one of his more memorable debate lines) any sudden conversions on the road to Des Moines. Whether the depth of his faith-he is, for example, an unashamed creationist-might hurt him with the electorate at large is unclear. But this is part of the larger Huckabee appeal: where other candidates' words are continually poll-tested, Huckabee seems to speak honestly-a breath of fresh air in the modern era of controlled politics.

And much like another boy from Hope, the man can orate. This alone sets himself apart from his competition. Fred Thompson/Arthur Branch has thus far been uninspiring. Rudy Giuliani is given to such schticky antics as taking phone calls from his wife in the midst of an important speech. It also means that on the off chance that he makes the cut, he could outdebate Clinton, and could very well do the same to Barack Obama.

None of this is supposed to anoint (or endorse) Huckabee, just to point out the obvious. His is a rising star-he's polling better and better in Iowa and New Hampshire and can only benefit from Kansas Sen. Sam Brownback's withdrawal from the race-that still has the capacity to surprise some people. Although he has proven to be a poor fundraiser, lacks the necessary organization in early states, and is often criticized as being somewhat shallow on the issues, especially foreign policy issues, none of this really matters. Appearances to the contrary, Mike Huckabee isn't running for president; he's running for vice president.