In his Sept. 22 address to the U.N. General Assembly, President Donald Trump called the International Criminal Court an anti-American tribunal and urged countries to withdraw their membership. Washington, Beijing, Moscow, New Delhi, and Jerusalem never joined. The United States has reportedly been assembling a sanctions package against the court as an institution — if imposed, this could mean the denial of basic services such as banking and insurance by U.S.-based firms. Thus far, the European Union and Japan have refused to follow Washington’s lead.
Soaring rhetoric about the international legal order aside, the ICC’s performance has been far less than stellar. Shortly after Secretary of State Marco Rubio vowed to take it apart in July, the ICC’s own members ousted its chief prosecutor, Karim Khan, over sexual misconduct allegations. Washington had already sanctioned Khan over the arrest warrants he requested for top Israeli officials. The sexual misconduct complaint was made in 2024. The court took nearly two years to act.
Critics say Rubio and Trump are dismantling the rules-based international order. Few ask the more uncomfortable question: what if they have the diagnosis right and the prescription wrong?
When the ICC opened in 2002, it promised to chase atrocity wherever it happened. Yet, by the end of 2014, all nine of its full investigations had been in Africa. In 2017, African Union leaders endorsed a nonbinding plan for members to walk out. Their grievance was real enough. Every person convicted by the ICC has been African.
Then there is the work itself. From December 2007 to February 2008, a wave of post-election violence shook Kenya. In 2010, ICC founding prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo named six prominent Kenyan suspects. Two of them, Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto, won the presidency and the deputy presidency in 2013 after a campaign that depicted the court as a neocolonial tool. Witnesses recanted or died. Others were too terrified to testify. By 2014, Ocampo’s successor dropped the charges against Kenyatta.
Ocampo’s record after leaving The Hague made things worse. Leaked documents showed him signing a $3 million contract to advise Hassan Tatanaki, a billionaire tied to former Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi, even though Ocampo had sought Gaddafi’s arrest in 2011. The Sunday Times reported that he tipped Tatanaki off that court investigators were watching him. Ocampo denied receiving intelligence from “anyone from the ICC.”
This year, a new scandal erupted — unverified leaked recordings showing Ocampo and his son, Tomas, discussing the removal of Armenia’s prime minister and bragging about their ability to influence the policies of the EU all the way to the top offices. Reports also have Ocampo discussing a legal challenge to compel the European Commission to cancel its energy agreement with Azerbaijan.
Oversight has been just as thin.
After Khan was accused of sexual misconduct in 2024, the court’s members commissioned a U.N. investigation, waited for a panel of judicial experts, suspended the prosecutor, and finally removed him. Even Kenneth Roth, former Human Rights Watch chief and a prominent ICC defender, says it needs a better way to handle such claims. A court that asks the world to trust its judgment on genocide should be able to settle a personnel case in less than two years.
Rubio’s core legal objection deserves a hearing, too.
The ICC claims power over Americans if their alleged crimes happen on the soil of a member state. Scholars who defend that reading call it ordinary jurisdictional law. They may be right. However, that means a treaty Washington declined to join could be used to prosecute Americans.
So, why not tear the thing down? Because the alternative is worse, and the messenger has been inconsistent. In 2022, with Russian tanks in Ukraine, Rubio and other senators sponsored a resolution calling the ICC a tribunal that “seeks to uphold the rule of law.” In 2023, the court issued a warrant for Russian President Vladimir Putin. Whatever its faults, it is the only criminal court that has put the Kremlin on notice, and the administration has not offered a replacement. Vaporizing the ICC would please Moscow and Beijing more than it would protect American soldiers.
Washington’s own tactics undercut its argument. Since February 2025, it has sanctioned the ICC prosecutor, nine judges, and both deputy prosecutors. Punishing officials for decisions you dislike is coercion and hands defenders an easy way to change the subject.
Another option is not to dismantle the ICC, but to press hard for reforms. The court’s prosecutors have been an Achilles heel.
RESTORING AMERICA: RUBIO’S STUNNING ATHENS SPEECH STOPS WASHINGTON COLD
The real leverage lies with Japan, Germany, France, and Britain, which paid roughly 44% of the court’s expenses in 2023. Their diplomats serve on the Assembly of States Parties, which approves budgets and elects the prosecutor. Together, they could push for more careful selection of the prosecutor, a shorter misconduct process, a rule against naming suspects before evidence is available, and the disclosure of criteria for accepting cases. And all this can be lobbied for without Washington shaking its fist.
The vote for Khan’s successor isn’t expected until next year. America can spend that time trying to smash the courthouse or trying to decide who gets the keys.
Hollie McKay is a writer, war crimes investigator, and the author of Only Cry for the Living: Memos from Inside the ISIS Battlefield. She was an investigative and international affairs/war correspondent for Fox News Digital for over 14 years, covering war, terrorism, and crimes against humanity.