Morning Call: our pick of the papers

The ten must-read pieces from this morning’s papers.

1. His calamity cabinet must be the despair of David Cameron (Observer)

An astonishing number of ministers are either deliberately stirring up trouble or stumbling into the mire, says Andrew Rawnsley.

2. Last gasp of the seigneurs (Sunday Times) (£)

Both Ken Clarke and Dominique Strauss-Kahn owe their predicaments largely to the same thing – an indifference to women's feelings, says Minette Marrin.

3. Ed Miliband and the End of the World (Independent on Sunday)

Labour's leader should be thinking about policy and not about Clarke's resignation – or anything else unlikely to happen, argues John Rentoul.

4. Kenneth Clarke has done his time. He should go without delay (Sunday Telegraph)

Until the Justice Secretary is sacked, Cameron's claim to be on the side of the public over crime will fail to ring true, says Matthew d'Ancona.

5. Speak up on crime, PM, or be punished (Sunday Times) (£)

Law and order is usually the Conservatives' strongest card, yet many voters think the Prime Minister has thrown it away, says Martin Ivens.

6. Obama's visit marks a new special relationship of the super-realists (Observer)

With a shared pragmatism about foreign policy, the president and David Cameron may have a good deal in common, says Jacob Weisberg.

7. The right seems reluctant to run against Obama (Independent on Sunday)

Six months ago, the Republicans triumphed in the midterm elections, but few have come forward for 2012, writes Rupert Cornwell.

8. Why drown Ken Clarke in this tidal wave of phony anger? (Observer)

The reaction to the Justice Secretary's remarks about rape proves that true political discurse is a thing of the past, writes Rachel Cooke.

9. Who are the standard-bearers of the Tory right? (Sunday Telegraph)

Liam Fox's intervention on overseas aid shows that the right of the Conservative Party is still a force to be reckoned with, says Tim Montgomerie.

10. They shoot horses, don't they? (New York Times)

The Syrian regime that has been so accustomed to staying in control is getting a taste of what it's like to lose it, says Thomas L Friedman.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.