In a move that lays bare the collision between national power and international accountability, the Trump administration sanctioned the president of the International Criminal Court and a senior prosecutor, freezing their American assets and severing their access to global finance. The targets — a Japanese judge and a Senegalese lawyer — were chosen because of their roles in pursuing an arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, a man the administration has pledged to protect from prosecution. At stake is something older and larger than any single case: whether an institutio
US Sanctions ICC President Akane, Escalating Campaign Against War Crimes Court
When judicial actors are threatened for applying the law, the international legal order itself is placed at risk.
Why does the U.S. care so much about what the ICC does? The court has no power to arrest anyone without cooperation from member states.
That's true in theory, but the threat is real enough to matter. If Netanyahu or other Israeli officials travel to an ICC member country, they could be detained. More broadly, the court's investigations create legal jeopardy and reputational damage. The U.S. is essentially saying: we will not tolerate this court having any leverage over our allies, even indirect leverage.
But the U.S. isn't even a member. Why does it care what the ICC does to non-members?
Because the court's statute allows it to prosecute crimes committed on member-state territory by non-member nationals. So theoretically, an American soldier could be investigated for conduct in a member country. The administration sees that as an intolerable constraint on American freedom of action.
Is there any chance these sanctions actually work—that they persuade the ICC to back off?
Unlikely. The court is built on the premise that it answers to international law, not to any single nation's pressure. But the sanctions do real damage. They isolate court officials, make it harder to recruit talent, and the diplomatic campaign to get countries to leave is actually gaining traction. Five countries have already withdrawn.
What happens if more countries leave?
The court becomes weaker, less legitimate, less able to function. That's the point. The administration is betting it can hollow out the institution from the outside if it can't control it from within.
And the lawsuits against Trump—do those have a real chance?
The judges' lawsuit argues the sanctions are unlawful under international law. The advocacy groups argue they violate constitutional rights to seek justice. Both face steep odds. Courts are usually reluctant to second-guess executive decisions on foreign policy and sanctions. But the constitutional argument is novel enough that it might get traction.
Il Polso
- The administration escalated its war on the ICC by sanctioning court president Tomoko Akane and prosecutor Abdoulaye Seye, cutting them off from the American financial system that underpins global banking.
- The move fulfills the exact threat Akane herself had warned would 'jeopardize the court's very existence' — and the administration issued it knowing she had said so.
- At least five countries have already withdrawn from the ICC under American diplomatic pressure, and Secretary Rubio has signaled the campaign to dismantle the institution will only intensify.
- The ICC fired back that sanctioning judges and lawyers for applying the law places the entire international legal order at risk — framing this not as a jurisdictional dispute but as an assault on justice itself.
- Three ICC judges have sued the Trump administration, and advocacy groups have filed separate constitutional challenges, opening a legal front that may ultimately determine how far executive power can reach.
In a move that lays bare the collision between national power and international accountability, the Trump administration sanctioned the president of the International Criminal Court and a senior prosecutor, freezing their American assets and severing their access to global finance. The targets — a Japanese judge and a Senegalese lawyer — were chosen because of their roles in pursuing an arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, a man the administration has pledged to protect from prosecution. At stake is something older and larger than any single case: whether an institution built to hold the powerful accountable can survive the opposition of the most powerful nation on earth.
On Tuesday, Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced sanctions against Tomoko Akane, the Japanese judge who leads the International Criminal Court, and Abdoulaye Seye, a Senegalese lawyer on the prosecution team. Their American assets were frozen and their access to the U.S. financial system severed — a consequence with global reach, given how deeply international banking is tied to American markets.
The targets were not chosen at random. Seye had been part of the effort to secure an arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and Akane had become the public face of an institution the administration views as a threat. Months earlier, Akane had warned that American sanctions would rapidly undermine the court's operations and threaten its survival. The administration's answer was to proceed exactly as she feared.
Rubio framed the action around a principle of consent: the court, he argued, has no right to pursue officials from countries that have never joined it. The United States has never been a member of the ICC, which was founded in 2002 to prosecute war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity. But the court's statute allows it to act on crimes committed within member states' territories, even by nationals of non-member countries — a provision Washington considers an overreach.
This escalation follows earlier rounds of sanctions targeting ICC prosecutors and judges, and a diplomatic offensive that has already persuaded at least five countries to withdraw from the court. Rubio made clear the campaign would continue. The ICC responded by warning that threatening judicial actors for applying the law endangers the international legal order itself.
The legal resistance is growing. Three ICC judges sued the Trump administration in June, and advocacy groups have filed separate lawsuits arguing the sanctions unconstitutionally restrict organizations working to pursue justice for atrocities. The Treasury Department granted Akane and Seye a narrow window — through mid-September — to wind down their U.S. transactions before the restrictions fully take hold.
Trump himself removed any ambiguity about the purpose: the campaign exists to shield Netanyahu and other allies from prosecution. What began as a dispute over jurisdiction has become something more direct — an assertion that American financial power will be used to protect the powerful from international accountability, and a test of whether any institution can withstand it.
The Trump administration moved on Tuesday to sanction the president of the International Criminal Court and one of its senior prosecutors, marking another escalation in what has become a sustained campaign to undermine the institution. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced the action against Tomoko Akane, a Japanese judge who leads the court, and Abdoulaye Seye, a Senegalese lawyer who sits on the prosecution team. The sanctions freeze any assets the two individuals hold in the United States and effectively sever their access to the American financial system—a consequence that ripples through international banking, since nearly all major institutions maintain close ties to U.S. markets.
The timing and targets reveal the administration's core grievance. Seye was part of the prosecution effort that sought an arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and has been nominated for election as an ICC judge. Akane, as court president, has become the public face of an institution the Trump administration views as a threat. In December, Akane had warned that American sanctions would "rapidly undermine the court's operations in all situations and cases, and jeopardize its very existence." The administration's response was to do precisely what she feared.
Rubio justified the sanctions by arguing that Akane and Seye had "directly engaged in efforts by the ICC to investigate, arrest, detain, or prosecute officials whose government has not consented to ICC jurisdiction." The statement reflects a core principle of the Trump administration's position: the court should have no authority over individuals from countries that have not voluntarily joined it. The United States itself has never been a member of the court, which was established in 2002 by the international community to prosecute war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity. Yet the ICC's statute grants it jurisdiction to prosecute atrocity crimes committed on the territory of member states, even when perpetrated by nationals of non-member countries—a provision the administration views as an unacceptable overreach.
This is not the first time the administration has wielded sanctions against the court. Last year, it targeted several ICC officials, including prosecutors and judges, citing both the Netanyahu warrant and a past investigation into U.S. troops in Afghanistan. Now, with Rubio explicitly stating that the administration plans to step up efforts to undermine the institution, the campaign has entered a new phase. The State Department is pursuing a diplomatic offensive aimed at persuading other nations to withdraw from the court. At least five countries have already done so in response to American pressure.
The ICC responded with a statement asserting that the sanctions undermine the rule of law itself. "When judicial actors are threatened for applying the law, it is the international legal order itself that is placed at risk," the court said. The statement captures the fundamental tension: the administration views the court as a threat to American interests and those of its allies; the court views itself as a neutral arbiter of justice, now under siege.
The legal challenges are mounting. Three ICC judges sued Trump and his administration in June, arguing that the sanctions are unlawful. Separately, advocacy groups have filed two lawsuits contending that the American campaign violates the constitutional rights of organizations working with the court to pursue justice for atrocities. The Treasury Department issued a general license on Tuesday allowing Akane and Seye to wind down their U.S. transactions through mid-September, a narrow window before the financial noose tightens completely.
Trump himself has been explicit about the motivation. He said the campaign was aimed at defending Netanyahu and others from prosecution—a statement that strips away any pretense that this is about abstract principles of jurisdiction or sovereignty. What remains is a straightforward assertion: the president of the United States will use the full weight of American financial power to shield allies from international accountability. Whether that power proves sufficient, and whether the courts will permit it, remains to be seen.
Citazioni salienti
These individuals have directly engaged in efforts by the ICC to investigate, arrest, detain, or prosecute officials whose government has not consented to ICC jurisdiction.— Secretary of State Marco Rubio
The campaign was aimed at defending Netanyahu and others from prosecution.— President Trump