If the Trump administration is serious about following through on its threat to “dismantle” the International Criminal Court (ICC) — and all indications are that it is determined to do so — it is about to find out that the road to The Hague runs through Tokyo.
On Aug. 18, Secretary of State Marco Rubio imposed sanctions on ICC President Tomoko Akane, a Japanese judge, along with senior ICC lawyer Abdoulaye Seye of Senegal for allegedly having “directly engaged in efforts by the ICC to investigate, arrest, detain, or prosecute officials whose government has not consented to ICC jurisdiction.” Rubio’s announcement presented the sanctioning of a Japanese citizen as part of what the State Department calls a “whole-of-government” “campaign” to neutralize the ostensible “threat” posed by the ICC to the United States. The announcement also suggested that Washington expects other countries to join the Trump administration’s effort by ending their funding and participation in the Court.
To say that this places Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi in a difficult position is an understatement. Since U.S. President Donald Trump returned to office in January 2025, Takaichi has invested heavily in her relationship with him. Yet, Japan has long been a champion of international law, in addition to being in a security alliance with the United States that has benefited both countries, and Akane is a particularly prominent figure in Japan. Tokyo’s first response the day after the U.S. sanctions announcement against Akane suggests just how uncomfortable that test already is (and more on that later).
The ICC’s Largest Financial Contributor
On rule of law, not only is Japan a state party to the Rome Statute that created the ICC, it is the Court’s largest financial contributor, supplying roughly 15 percent of the Court’s assessed contributions. Since acceding to the Rome Statute in 2007, Tokyo has made support for international courts a visible part of its foreign policy, which puts an emphasis on the rule of law. It has also invested political capital in placing Japanese jurists on international benches. Akane was nominated by the Japanese government and is the first Japanese president of the ICC.
Strong support for the ICC has long appeared to be settled Japanese policy. Just last year, Tokyo highlighted its “unwavering support for the role of international courts” – including the ICC. In January 2026, Takaichi declared both the ICC and the International Court of Justice to be a “foundation for peace and prosperity” and said they “play a central role in upholding the rule of law.” When Akane met Foreign Minister Toshimitsu Motegi in Tokyo on March 31, Motegi promised that Japan would continue to provide “firm support” to an independent and secure ICC. In July, Akane went further, asking Japan to help persuade Asian member states to resist the Trump administration’s new campaign to push countries out of the Court.
Now Washington has sanctioned Akane, a well-connected jurist in Tokyo’s elite circles.
For Takaichi, this transforms an uncomfortable issue that Tokyo has sought to keep out of the headlines – its ally’s diplomatic attacks on one of the pillars of Japan’s foreign policy ethos — into a question that may redefine Japan’s role in the world going forward. Her March summit with Trump emphasized their personal trust and presented the alliance as the foundation for cooperation across security concerns, economic policy, and regional issues in the Indo-Pacific. Given Japan’s security environment, maintaining that relationship is hardly a trivial concern.
But herein lies Takaichi’s dilemma. Akane is not just any international civil servant with only a remote connection to Tokyo. She is a veteran Japanese prosecutor, served as Japan’s ambassador for international judicial cooperation at the Foreign Ministry and previously as public prosecutor at the Supreme Public Prosecutors Office of Japan, and she was put forward by the Japanese government for election to the ICC. That makes her the Japanese president of an institution that Japanese taxpayers finance more heavily than any other country.
A Test for the Prime Minister
How strongly Takaichi will protest the designation is therefore an immediate — and unwanted — test for her government. It would be politically perilous to throw one of Japan’s most prominent international jurists under the bus because Washington has decided to target her. One short-term decision point will be whether she will allow U.S. sanctions to be essentially imported into Japan through its own financial institutions, by complying with any request that may be forthcoming to freeze Akane’s assets in Japan, or if she will resist such entreaties or try to prevent them from being issued in the first place.
Former Digital Minister Karen Makishima, a lawmaker in Takaichi’s Liberal Democratic Party, has said the sanctions “cannot be overlooked.” She described Akane as someone “Japan should be proud of,” and argued that Tokyo must make clear its commitment to protecting the ICC’s independence. Former Defense Minister Gen Nakatani, another member of the LDP, has demanded that the prime minister or foreign minister immediately protest the sanctions and call for their withdrawal, arguing that maintaining the U.S.-Japan alliance and defending the rule of law “are not an either-or choice.” Other Japanese political and public voices have gone further, demanding that the government formally protest and seek withdrawal of the sanctions.
On Aug. 19, Japan’s Foreign Ministry described the sanctions against Akane in relatively mild terms, as merely “very unfortunate,” while reiterating Japan’s longstanding support for the ICC and promising to continue communicating with “related countries.” Takaichi subsequently echoed almost exactly the same cautious formulation, calling the sanctions “very regrettable” and saying only that Japan would continue consultations with the United States and other relevant countries. Neither statement called for the sanctions to be withdrawn.
Tokyo is also reportedly seeking a telephone call between Motegi and Rubio, with Japanese officials expected to ask Washington not to apply sanctions to Akane. That conversation could become the first real indicator of whether Japan is prepared to move beyond expressions of regret and press its closest ally directly over the ICC.
Washington appears prepared to press hard for cooperation, given Rubio’s insistence that more countries join its campaign by ending their ICC funding and participation. Prior to the Aug. 18 move against Akane, Takaichi’s government had not condemned other U.S. sanctions against the ICC, and hadn’t called on Washington to withdraw them or say what Japan would do to protect Akane from their practical effects. The caution is especially striking given what the same government was saying only months ago.
Contrast Tokyo’s tepid characterization of the sanctions with the initial Dutch response. As the country that hosts the ICC, the Netherlands expressed disapproval of the new U.S. sanctions. Dutch Foreign Minister Tom Berendsen even invited Akane to discuss continued Dutch support for the Court, declaring that international courts and tribunals must be free to carry out their mandates. Tokyo, despite Akane being a Japanese national and Japan being the Court’s largest financial contributor, has so far stopped noticeably short of such a response.
Rule of Law as Foreign Policy Centerpiece
There is a still deeper problem. Japan has long presented support for the rule of law as central to its vision of international order. That position matters particularly when Tokyo confronts Russian aggression in Ukraine (and Moscow’s determination to reinforce its sovereignty claim over the Russian-held Kuril Islands, as Putin’s recent visit to Etorofu demonstrated) and Chinese coercion closer to home. Japan, in fact, referred the situation in Ukraine to the ICC in 2022. Akane subsequently became one of the judges targeted with a Russian arrest warrant after the Court issued its warrant for Vladimir Putin. Japan has therefore already experienced what it looks like when a major power seeks to intimidate ICC judges for decisions it dislikes.
The dilemma for Tokyo is straightforward: how can Japan defend the independence of international judicial institutions against Russian and Chinese coercion, yet remain silent when its principal ally targets the same institutions — and now a Japanese judge?
This is why the coming battle over the future of the ICC will be decided less in The Hague than in the capitals of influential ICC member states like Japan. After all, almost all of America’s NATO allies — and key Indo-Pacific allies including Japan, Australia, and South Korea — are parties to the Rome Statute. Indeed, the three-person presidency of the Assembly of States Parties to the Rome Statute also issued a statement on Aug. 19, saying the latest U.S. sanctions against the Court undermine global accountability efforts and erode shared values underpinning a rules-based international order. Notably, two of the three current members of the Assembly presidency are from U.S. NATO allies Finland and Poland.
The United States is not a member of the Court and contributes nothing to its regular budget, though under both Republican and Democratic administrations it has engaged with and supported the ICC in other ways, most recently related to Russia’s war on Ukraine during the Biden administration with bipartisan support on Capitol Hill. Therefore, Washington cannot defund the ICC in the conventional sense. What it can do is exploit the reach of the American financial system and the weight of American power to raise the costs of supporting the Court. The sanctions imposed on ICC officials effectively cut them off from a financial system with which almost every globally active bank must interact.
Japan Is Key for Trump Administration “Dismantling” Campaign
Meanwhile, Rubio is openly urging state parties to the Rome Statute to withdraw their money and their participation. For that strategy to work, Washington will need the support of key ICC member states. And when it comes to dismantling the ICC, few matter more than Japan.
A Japanese decision to reduce or withdraw support would not by itself close the ICC. But losing its largest contributor, amid U.S. financial sanctions and a broader campaign encouraging withdrawals, would strike at the Court’s ability to function at precisely the moment when Akane has warned that U.S. pressure is threatening its ability to function. More importantly, Takaichi’s acquiescence to Rubio’s campaign to “dismantle” the Court could trigger the kind of cascading retreat from the ICC that Washington appears to be seeking.
Conversely, an unequivocal decision by Tokyo to maintain its funding and defend Akane would expose the limits of Trump’s efforts to threaten the Court. It would demonstrate that alliance with the United States does not require allies to abandon institutions they regard as central to a rules-based international order. But it would also carry costs. Takaichi has invested heavily in her relationship with Trump, including through major Japanese investment commitments in the United States. Openly resisting a campaign to which the Trump administration has attached considerable political importance could spill into other areas of the bilateral relationship. That is what makes the choice so consequential: Tokyo is being asked, in effect, to decide whether preserving its privileged relationship with Washington requires sacrificing a leading Japanese citizen’s reputation and an institution Japan has spent nearly two decades financing, staffing and defending.
