US sanctions ICC president and official in escalating pressure campaign

On Tuesday, the United States Treasury Department added two more names to its sanctions list: Tomoko Akane, the International Criminal Court's president, and Abdoulaye Seye, an ICC official. The designations froze whatever assets either man held in American banks and made it illegal for U.S. citizens and companies to do business with them. It was the latest move in what has become a sustained campaign by the Trump administration to pressure, isolate, and ultimately constrain an institution it views as a threat.

Akane is a Japanese national who took the ICC presidency in 2024. Seye is from Senegal. Their names joined a growing roster of court officials now under American sanctions—ten in total, including the court's former chief prosecutor Karim Khan and eight judges. The legal instrument behind all of this is Executive Order 14203, which Trump signed on February 6, 2025, specifically to impose sanctions on the International Criminal Court. The order gives the Treasury Department broad authority to designate ICC personnel without congressional approval.

The timing is not accidental. In November 2024, the ICC issued arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, citing alleged war crimes committed during the conflict in Gaza. The warrants triggered an immediate and forceful response from Washington. The U.S. is not a member of the ICC and has long resisted the court's jurisdiction. But the Netanyahu warrants crossed a line the Trump administration was unwilling to tolerate. What followed was not quiet diplomacy but public pressure, rhetorical assault, and now financial punishment.

State Department Secretary Marco Rubio made the administration's position explicit during remarks at Camp David last month. He said the ICC had "made themselves illegitimate" by claiming authority over countries that have not joined the court. Trump himself was more direct, saying Rubio was working to "defend Bibi and various other people"—using Netanyahu's nickname and making clear that the sanctions campaign was, at its core, about protecting Israeli officials from international accountability.

Akane has not backed down. In December, speaking before the ICC's Assembly of States Parties, he pushed back against the sanctions pressure directly. He told the assembly that no external pressure would change how the court's judges interpreted their legal mandate or handled cases. "We will never accept any kind of pressures from anyone on issues of interpretation of the statutory framework and adjudication of cases," he said. He emphasized that the court's independence and impartiality remained intact, unshaken by American financial coercion.

But the gap between defiant words and institutional reality is wide. The sanctions do real damage. They complicate travel, freeze personal assets, and send a signal to other countries about the cost of supporting the court. They also reflect a broader American strategy: if you cannot persuade an institution to bend to your will, you can at least make it painful for those who run it to resist.

The ICC has not yet issued a formal response to the latest designations. What comes next is unclear. The court could continue its investigations and prosecutions as if nothing has changed, betting that its legitimacy rests on its mandate and not on American approval. Or the sanctions could accumulate enough pressure that judges and officials begin to hesitate, to second-guess, to find reasons to narrow their scope. The confrontation between Washington and The Hague is far from over.