International Criminal Court celebrated its 28th anniversary on 17 July, but the occasion was eclipsed by a cascade of challenges that threaten its standing as the world's premier tribunal for war crimes and crimes against humanity.

European capitals have announced a series of training programmes for diplomats and policymakers aimed at strengthening accountability and combating impunity. Yet the court that these initiatives are meant to reinforce is grappling with a credibility crisis that stems from external pressure, uneven political backing and internal governance turmoil.

US sanctions test the court's independence

The most visible external threat emerged from the United States under the previous administration, which imposed sanctions on ICC judges and senior prosecutors. By cutting off access to financial services and key digital platforms, the sanctions struck at the very independence the court is supposed to enjoy. Legal experts have questioned the legitimacy of those measures, arguing that they contravene the principle of judicial autonomy.

The European Union condemned the US action in strong terms, but its response stopped short of invoking the Blocking Statute (Regulation 2271/96), a tool that could have shielded ICC officials from the effects of foreign sanctions. As a result, individual judges and staff members have been left to navigate the fallout on their own, a situation that underscores a gap between EU rhetoric and concrete protection.

Selective political support fuels accusations of bias

Europe's own record of backing the court is equally inconsistent. When Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, a coalition of 41 states swiftly referred the conflict to the ICC, signalling a collective willingness to hold perpetrators accountable. The move was accompanied by public statements that framed the court as a cornerstone of the international rule of law.

By contrast, the ICC's decision in 2024 to issue arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former defence minister Yoav Gallant over alleged war crimes in Gaza was met with a markedly muted response from many Western capitals. Several governments publicly questioned whether they would enforce the warrants, and no coordinated effort to ensure their execution materialised.

Observers in the Global South interpreted the disparity as evidence that the court operates as a tool of Western interests rather than a universal arbiter of justice. The perception that the ICC is more willing to pursue cases against states outside the Euro‑Atlantic orbit than against allies has eroded its moral authority in the eyes of many developing nations.

EU and Council of Europe create a parallel tribunal

Compounding the credibility problem, the European Union and the Council of Europe have established an ad hoc tribunal to prosecute Russian aggression in Ukraine. The move was justified on the grounds that the ICC still has jurisdictional gaps concerning the crime of aggression, a gap that the new body is intended to fill.

While the tribunal may address a specific legal vacuum, its existence highlights a double standard. Aggression cases linked to conflicts in the Middle East or Latin America remain largely untouched, reinforcing the narrative that international criminal justice is selectively applied. Critics argue that the parallel mechanism provides a convenient illustration of how the ICC can be sidelined when its decisions clash with the political interests of powerful states.

Disappointingly low output and slow justice

Beyond political dynamics, the ICC's track record on delivering judgments is stark. In almost three decades of operation, the court has issued fewer than fifteen final judgments. Many proceedings have stretched on for years, with acquittal rates that appear unusually high.

The case of the Democratic Republic of Congo's Katanga province illustrates the problem. Arrested in 2007, the accused faced a trial that only concluded with reparations in early 2025, a span of nearly twenty years. Victims received a modest sum of $250 each, funded not by the DRC but by Germany, Ireland and the Netherlands through the Trust Fund for Victims. The total payout, just under $1 million, pales in comparison with the court's administrative budget and the costs of its legal teams.

When the ICC is asked to address atrocities that involve potentially hundreds of thousands of victims, such as those in Gaza or Ukraine, the disparity between expectations and capacity becomes even more pronounced. Victims and civil‑society groups have repeatedly voiced frustration that the court's promises of accountability often translate into protracted, under‑funded processes that deliver limited redress.

Internal governance crisis adds to the strain

Internal turmoil has further destabilised the institution. In May 2024, allegations of sexual misconduct were raised against Prosecutor Karim Khan. An independent panel of three senior judges, appointed by the Bureau of the Assembly of States Parties, examined the findings of a United Nations Office of Internal Oversight Services (OIOS) investigation. The panel unanimously concluded that there was no evidence of misconduct or breach of duty.

Despite the panel's clear verdict, the Bureau chose to ignore the conclusions. On 8 June 2026, more than two years after the initial complaint, the Bureau voted by a two‑thirds majority to refer the matter to the full assembly on grounds of "serious misconduct" and suspended Khan with immediate effect. The 125‑member Assembly of States Parties is scheduled to meet on 24 July to decide the prosecutor's fate.

Critics argue that the Bureau's decision undermines due process, setting a precedent where procedural outcomes can be overridden for political convenience. The episode has sparked a broader debate about the court's internal checks and balances and the extent to which its own governance structures embody the standards of fairness it expects from national judiciaries.

What honest support would look like

Former ICC judge John Smith (name changed for privacy), who served on the bench for nine years, contends that the court deserves "honest support" rather than superficial applause. He urges European states to enforce ICC decisions consistently, irrespective of the political profile of the individuals involved.

He also calls on the EU to activate its blocking statute to protect ICC officials from extraterritorial sanctions, and for the Assembly of States Parties to apply the same procedural rigour to its own members that it demands of national courts. Finally, he stresses the need for the court to confront the gap between the high expectations it generates among victims and the modest outcomes it can realistically deliver.

Why the ICC still matters for Europe

Despite its shortcomings, the ICC retains unique capabilities. It can hold heads of state and senior officials personally accountable for the gravest crimes, a principle that was unthinkable before the Nuremberg trials. The court also contributes to the development of international criminal law, shaping norms that influence national legislation and policy across the continent.

For European citizens, the court's work has indirect but tangible effects. Robust international justice can deter future atrocities, reduce the likelihood of refugee flows that strain public services, and reinforce the EU's own commitment to human rights. Moreover, the court's existence provides a legal framework that European courts can reference when dealing with war‑crimes cases at the national level.

However, the EU's investment in training programmes on accountability must be matched by a willingness to hold its own allies to account. The disparity between the enthusiastic backing of the ICC in the Ukraine case and the tepid reaction to the Gaza warrants illustrates a broader inconsistency that undermines Europe's moral standing.

Looking ahead

The upcoming Assembly of States Parties meeting on 24 July will be a litmus test for the court's internal governance. A decision to reinstate Prosecutor Khan could restore some stability, while a vote for his removal might deepen the perception of a politicised institution.

Simultaneously, the EU faces a choice about whether to employ its blocking statute to shield ICC officials from foreign sanctions. Such a step would signal a concrete commitment to judicial independence, moving beyond rhetorical condemnation.

In the longer term, the court will need to address its procedural bottlenecks, improve victim reparations, and accelerate the delivery of judgments if it hopes to retain credibility. For European societies that champion the rule of law, the ICC's fortunes are not a peripheral concern; they reflect the broader health of an international order that seeks to protect civilians from the worst excesses of state power.

As Europe continues to champion accountability on the global stage, the question remains whether it will back its words with actions that hold all parties, including its own allies, to the same standards. The answer will shape not only the future of the ICC but also the credibility of Europe's own commitment to a rules‑based world.