U.S. Sanctions ICC President as Colombia Moves to Quit Court, Testing Global Justice System
Washington has frozen the U.S. assets of International Criminal Court president Tomoko Akane, while Colombia prepares to withdraw from the court after pressure from the Trump administration. The twin blows threaten to weaken a tribunal tasked with prosecuting war crimes just as conflicts from Gaza to Ukraine sharpen debates over impunity and sovereignty.
The International Criminal Court, already under fire from multiple directions, has been hit from both sides of the Atlantic in a way that could reshape how wars are judged. On 18 August, the United States imposed financial sanctions on ICC president Tomoko Akane, freezing any assets she holds in the U.S. and largely cutting her off from the American financial system. Almost simultaneously, officials signaled that Colombia is set to withdraw from the court, making it the first major Latin American state to leave in a broader 2026 wave of departures.
The U.S. move against Akane follows a pattern of confrontation between Washington and The Hague when American officials fear exposure to war-crimes prosecution. By designating the court’s presiding judge under sanctions law, the Trump administration has escalated beyond verbal attacks to concrete measures that can complicate the ICC’s ability to travel, raise funds, and engage with international financial institutions. While the sanctions do not directly prohibit the court’s work, they stigmatize its leadership and could deter banks and partners from facilitating ICC-related transactions.
In Latin America, the blow is political rather than financial. Colombia’s planned withdrawal would take it out of the ICC’s jurisdiction for future crimes, aligning Bogotá with countries like Venezuela, Chad, and several Sahel states that have already announced exits this year. U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has explicitly urged allies to leave the court, calling it “fake and illegitimate,” and Colombia’s move would be the clearest sign yet that Washington’s campaign is resonating beyond its own borders.
For victims of conflict and human-rights advocates, the consequences are deeply personal. The ICC has been one of the few venues where individuals from smaller or weaker states could hope to see powerful actors prosecuted for atrocities when domestic courts fail. If a major regional democracy like Colombia walks away — especially at a time of intense scrutiny over abuses in its own internal conflicts — it sends a message that accountability can be treated as optional when it becomes politically inconvenient.
Operationally, the court’s ability to handle its docket could be strained. Sanctions on its president may complicate travel to the U.S. for meetings with the UN, civil society, or even witnesses, and could chill cooperation from U.S.-based NGOs and experts who fear secondary sanctions risk. A shrinking pool of member states also narrows the court’s reach: fewer jurisdictions that recognize its authority means fewer cases where suspects can be arrested and transferred, and fewer governments willing to share evidence.
Strategically, the erosion of support for the ICC comes at a moment when wars in Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, and elsewhere have thrust allegations of war crimes and crimes against humanity into public debate. Some governments sympathetic to Washington argue that the court has become politicized or overreaching; others see an effort by powerful states to shield themselves and their allies from scrutiny while keeping the court focused on adversaries and weaker regions. Either way, the message to commanders and politicians in ongoing conflicts is that the risk of prosecution may be lower tomorrow than it is today.
International justice has always been fragile, dependent less on formal treaties than on a critical mass of states willing to accept constraints on their own behavior. When a major power sanctions the court’s leadership and a key regional player heads for the exit at the same time, that consensus starts to look reversible. The danger is not that the ICC disappears overnight, but that it becomes easier for those planning or ordering atrocities to assume they will never see the inside of a courtroom.
The next developments to watch include whether other U.S. partners — particularly in Eastern Europe or Africa — follow Colombia’s example, how European ICC supporters respond to Washington’s sanctions, and whether the court itself adjusts its case selection to navigate the political backlash. Any moves by The Hague to open or expand investigations involving U.S. forces or close allies could further intensify this confrontation, forcing governments and commanders to choose between cooperation, defiance, or attempts to build alternative justice mechanisms outside the ICC framework.
Sources
- OSINT