The decision of the Donald Trump administration to distance itself from, or withdraw support for, the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals, in symbolic, political, and financial-administrative terms, represents a continuation of long-standing American skepticism toward international judicial institutions that limit the absolute sovereignty of states. This skepticism cannot be attributed solely to the Trump administration, as the United States has neither supported nor continues to support the permanent International Criminal Court (ICC) since its establishment in 2002.
Major powers - Russia and China - have never accepted the creation of a global order of international criminal justice. The United States is now joining them in this regard, without any restraints. In this sense, we are witnessing a kind of “twilight zone” of international criminal law, in which existing institutions formally continue to exist, but their financial, political, and moral foundations are being systematically undermined.
The withdrawal of the Trump administration from the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals is particularly significant and represents a concrete historical turning point. Although the United States played a key role in the establishment of both the ICTY and the ICTR in 1993 and 1994 respectively, that period of support is now behind us. This executive order by President Trump did not come out of the blue. It was announced as early as February 4, 2025, and its implementation is scheduled to take effect on February 4, 2026. Through this decision, the United States sends a clear message that it prioritizes national interests and domestic political logic over multilateral mechanisms of international justice - even when it comes to an institution such as the Mechanism, which is the legal successor of courts established with strong American support.
For decades, the United States positioned itself as a key advocate of international justice and the rule of law, particularly in the years immediately following the Second World War and during the establishment of ad hoc war crimes tribunals after the end of the Cold War in the early 1990s. By weakening its support for the Mechanism, the United States risks losing moral authority and credibility in future debates on human rights, war crimes, and the accountability of political and military elites. At the same time, such a move may encourage other states to reconsider or reduce their own cooperation with international courts, citing the American example, thereby further undermining the authority of international judicial institutions - most notably the ICC.
The United States thus sends a message that international obligations can be relatively easily suspended for domestic political reasons, regardless of the long-term consequences for the stability of the international order. That order is now eroding, and there are no indications of what might replace it. This development further confirms how vulnerable the system of international justice and multilateral cooperation is to political shifts among major powers. For victims of war crimes and for states that rely on United Nations mechanisms, the message is deeply troubling: international justice and global solidarity are not guaranteed, but instead depend on the prevailing political will and opportunistic priorities grounded in national interests.
For the International Residual Mechanism, the withdrawal of U.S. funding constitutes a serious financial and reputational blow. Political support from individual UN member states has always been - and remains - a key pillar of its legitimacy, financing, and ability to carry out its mandate. Nevertheless, the U.S. withdrawal does not necessarily imply immediate institutional paralysis. The Mechanism was never intended to be a permanent institution within the UN system, and by the nature of its mandate it has been in a process of gradual closure from the outset, accompanied by a reduction in its scope of work. The critical question, however, is to what extent the loss of financial support from one of its largest donors, at such a late stage, will further complicate the execution of its remaining tasks - from overseeing the enforcement of sentences to protecting archives and witnesses.
The lights are going out - one by one
The fact that as many as 31 agencies within the United Nations system appear on the same list indicates that this is not an isolated move, but rather a potential paralysis of a large part of the UN’s operational capacity. The UN lacks a mechanism to compensate, in the short term, for the loss of U.S. funding for the projects of these agencies. The consequences include the freezing of programs, delays in payments, cuts to field operations, and a reduced UN presence precisely in the world’s most vulnerable regions. In practice, this means that international justice, humanitarian assistance, development projects, and the protection of human rights are being directly jeopardized - not for legal reasons, but due to a financial decision by a single state.
The question remains to what extent the current U.S. administration is using financial arguments as a fig leaf for the American public in order to legitimize the dismantling of multilateralism. One of the most effective - yet politically quiet - ways to “turn off the lights” in the few remaining institutions of international justice is precisely through the elimination or drastic reduction of funding. Without openly abolishing mandates or formally withdrawing signatures, institutions are pushed into a state of functional paralysis.
Who will lock the building and throw away the key?
It is important to emphasize that since February 2025 the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals has been gradually preparing for closure. This process, however, is accompanied by a series of serious and as yet unresolved issues, as well as unfinished projects. The most critical of these concerns the archival legacy - one of the most important, but also one of the most costly, aspects of the Mechanism’s work.
In the context of drastic financial cuts, it is increasingly likely that the archives will be treated primarily through the lens of cost minimization, which raises troubling dilemmas: to what extent will archival materials be reduced, selectively preserved, or restricted in access, and will the criteria be guided by historical and legal significance or solely by financial logic?
An additional problem concerns the institutional and technical sustainability of access to the archives. Even if the archives formally remain under the auspices of the United Nations, access to this material is impossible without permanent institutional and service capacities - from expert staff, digital infrastructure, and security protocols to legal mechanisms governing the use of sensitive data.
The archives of the Mechanism are not merely an administrative legacy, but a fundamental resource for historians, legal scholars, journalists, researchers, and the victims themselves. Their fate directly affects the possibility of future reckoning with the past, the establishment of facts, and the prevention of revisionism.
At a time when funding for dozens of UN agencies is being cut simultaneously, the question remains whether the UN will be able, in the long term, to provide meaningful, functional, and transparent access to the Mechanism’s archives. Without stable funding, there is a real risk that the archives, although formally preserved, will in practice become difficult to access, fragmented, or reduced to a purely symbolic level.
In this context, the fate of the archives and the memorialization of the building become more than a technical question of real estate. This evolves into a test of the political will of the international community to preserve institutional memory and the normative value of international criminal justice.
The Netherlands, the European Union, or the successor states of the former Yugoslavia - on whose territories the wars were fought and which have a direct interest in preserving the archives as part of their cultural and historical heritage - bear particular responsibility in this process.
The building of the former International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia was recently purchased from its long-term owner, the insurance company Aegon, and is now owned by the Dutch state, specifically the Ministry of Justice and Security of the Netherlands. Discussions are currently underway regarding the possibility of housing the European Union’s Directorate for Customs in the building, thereby assigning it a new administrative function. If this does not materialize, there is a realistic option of expanding the capacity of Europol, whose headquarters are already located in the immediate vicinity.
At the same time, one of the most sensitive questions remains open: whether, and in what manner, part of the building will be converted into a memorial and opened to the public. It is precisely this symbolic and memorial dimension of the building that is currently under negotiation, yet the outcome remains highly uncertain.
As for the successor states of the former Yugoslavia, their initiatives are not merely desirable but obligatory toward their own citizens. How many states have come forward with an offer to house the archives in their national archival institutions? Has this happened at all? It seems that, in the end, the easiest solution is to blame Donald Trump for everything.