U.S. Sanctions ICC President and Senior Staffers Amid Credibility Crisis

September 8, 2026

On August 18, the Trump administration sanctioned Judge Tomoko Akane, president of the International Criminal Court (ICC), as well as Abdoulaye Seye, a senior ICC trial lawyer.

The sanctions were imposed under Executive Order 14203 and freeze any U.S.-jurisdiction assets while barring the sanctioned individuals from the American financial system.

A press statement by U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio reaffirmed the Trump administration’s view of the ICC as “a corrupt and fatally politicized supranational court” that has “exceeded its mandate.”

The United States has sanctioned nine of the court’s 18 judges, both deputy prosecutors, former prosecutor Karim Khan, and senior trial lawyer Abdoulaye Seye — a total of 13 current or former ICC personnel.

On July 24, the Assembly of States Parties, the ICC’s governing body, voted to remove Khan from office after finding that he had committed “serious misconduct and serious breach of duty.”

The ICC’s 2026 budget projection includes ” . . . targeted resources for external relations, IT systems and security measures, to ensure that the Court is able to respond rapidly and effectively to evolving risks and scenarios” (emphasis of the ICC’s).

In other words, the ICC is putting the bill for conducting a public relations campaign to counter the U.S. position squarely on the table of those countries that are still parties to the Rome Statute, the Court’s founding treaty.

High-flown language about impartiality and international rule of law aside, the scandals surrounding the ICC have brought things to the point that the credibility of the institution is under threat.

A recent report by Dr. Martin Sherman has detailed controversies involving the ICC’s chief prosecutors.

The court relies upon and is to a great degree driven by its prosecutors, and to date, it has had only three.

Before Karim Khan, there was Fatou Bensouda, who prior to serving the court filled several senior positions in the Gambia during the dictatorship of Yahya Jammeh, including solicitor general and attorney general, yet claims that she knew nothing whatsoever of the torture, disappearances, murders, illegal detentions and prison deaths that occurred under his regime.

The early years under the ICC’s first prosecutor, Luis Moreno Ocampo, generated lasting criticism. During his tenure, the court focused overwhelmingly on African countries.

Many arose through referrals by African governments or the UN Security Council, but the concentration nonetheless fostered a widespread perception that international justice was being enforced selectively.

The Kenya cases became a symbol of the court’s problems.

The ICC charged several senior Kenyan figures over the 2007–08 post-election violence.

According to the ICC’s own assessment, Ocampo bungled the case.

In fact, the most high-profile individual he sought to charge, Uhuru Kenyatta, subsequently won the Kenyan presidential election by campaigning on an anti-ICC narrative, framing the Court as “neo-colonial.”

After leaving the ICC, Ocampo moved into academia and consulting, holding positions at Harvard and Yale while continuing to cite his former ICC affiliation.

In 2017, Der Spiegel reported that he had owned companies in tax havens while at the court and later advised a Libyan oil billionaire, and former Gadhafi supporter Hassan Tatanaki who sought his help avoiding potential ICC prosecution.

Ocampo acknowledged advising Tatanaki but disputed allegations of wrongdoing.

This controversy casts a shadow over Ocampo’s subsequent work.

For example, in 2023, Ocampo issued an “expert opinion” concluding that there was a reasonable basis to believe Azerbaijan’s blockade of Karabakh constituted genocide.

Azerbaijan subsequently retained British international-law expert Rodney Dixon KC, who challenged Ocampo’s methodology and argued that he failed to consider important contrary evidence or establish the specific intent required for genocide.

It should also be noted that Armenia’s pending case against Azerbaijan before the International Court of Justice proceeds under the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, not the Genocide Convention.

In 2026, purported recordings involving Ocampo and his son, Tomás, raised disturbing questions. In one, they allegedly bragged about his strategies to influence European Union institutions.

In another, Tomás allegedly describes a network of activists and businesspeople working on Armenian issues and says its objective is to “remove [Nikol] Pashinyan,” Armenia’s anti-Russian, pro-Western prime minister less than two months before the national elections.

The severity of these allegations is precisely why governments with the necessary forensic capabilities should determine whether the recordings are authentic and publicly disclose their conclusion.

For a court employing roughly 900 people, 13 convictions and four acquittals in nearly a quarter-century is a meager achievement.

International justice does not depend on one permanent court.

Domestic courts can prosecute crimes within their jurisdiction. The ICJ can adjudicate disputes between states.

When extraordinary atrocities require individual criminal accountability across borders, nations can establish carefully designed ad hoc or hybrid tribunals.

Nuremberg (1945-1946) demonstrated that international criminal justice does not require a permanent global prosecutor.

Later tribunals for Yugoslavia and Rwanda demonstrated that specially created international mechanisms can pursue accountability for mass atrocities.