US sanctions ICC president Akane, escalating pressure on war crimes court

On Tuesday, the United States moved to isolate two senior officials of the International Criminal Court, freezing them out of American territory and the US financial system. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced sanctions against ICC President Tomoko Akane, a Japanese judge, and Abdoulaye Seye, the court's senior trial lawyer from Senegal. The action marks the latest escalation in what Washington calls a campaign against what it describes as a "corrupt and fatally politicised" institution.

Rubio's statement accused the two officials of directly participating in ICC efforts to investigate, arrest, or prosecute government officials whose nations have not consented to the court's jurisdiction. He offered no specific examples. The timing and scope of the sanctions reflect a broader American strategy that intensified last month, when the Trump administration launched a diplomatic push urging allied nations to withdraw from the ICC entirely. Chad and Venezuela have already announced departures.

The court itself responded swiftly and pointedly. In a statement issued the same day, the ICC said the sanctions "undermine the rule of law" and warned that when judicial actors face threats for applying the law, "it is the international legal order itself that is placed at risk." The institution, established in 2002 as a court of last resort when national systems fail to prosecute grave atrocities, has become a flashpoint in US foreign policy—particularly over its 2024 arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu related to the war in Gaza. Netanyahu himself praised the sanctions on social media, calling the ICC "a kangaroo court that cloaks its abuse of power in the language of international law."

Akane, 70, has served as an ICC judge since 2018 and was elected president in March 2024. She is not new to pressure. After Russia issued its own arrest warrant for her in 2023—following the ICC's warrant for Vladimir Putin over the Ukraine war—she responded with a striking observation: even if one judge were killed, replacements would be readily available, so targeting individual officials held little strategic value. The Japanese government, which funds the ICC more generously than any other nation and maintains close ties to Washington, has not yet commented on the sanctions. In July, a government spokesman had expressed concern about American statements regarding the court while reaffirming Japan's commitment to the ICC as a permanent institution for addressing serious crimes.

The Netherlands, where the ICC is headquartered at The Hague, issued a formal objection. Foreign Minister Tom Berendsen wrote that international courts must be able to carry out their mandates freely. Meanwhile, four human rights organizations filed suit against President Trump in New York, arguing that the sanctions obstruct war crime victims from pursuing justice. Human Rights Watch's Middle East director called the move "a naked attempt to shield American and Israeli officials implicated in serious crimes from justice."

The United States itself never ratified the Rome Statute that created the ICC, though it signed the treaty decades ago. Israel, Russia, and China are also non-members. This structural distance has not prevented Washington from wielding economic and diplomatic pressure against the court's operations. The sanctions bar Akane and Seye from entering the United States and from accessing the American financial system—measures that, while symbolic in some respects, carry real weight for international officials whose work often requires travel and financial mobility.

What emerges is a collision between two visions of international accountability. The ICC exists to prosecute individuals when their own governments will not—a mandate that by definition sometimes puts it at odds with powerful states. The Trump administration, by contrast, views the court as an illegitimate constraint on state sovereignty, particularly when that sovereignty belongs to American allies. The court's response suggests it will not back down, but the sanctions, combined with the diplomatic campaign for withdrawals, represent a sustained effort to weaken an institution that has no enforcement mechanism of its own and depends on the cooperation of member states to arrest and try suspects.