By Retired Lt. Colonel Samsudeen Sarr
President Donald Trump’s latest executive order—slamming sanctions on International Criminal Court (ICC) officials for daring to issue arrest warrants against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant—is yet another wrecking ball aimed at the crumbling edifice of international justice. This daring move mirrors his first-term antics when he wielded the sanction hammer against the ICC for probing alleged war crimes and human rights abuses by U.S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan—sanctions that President Joe Biden swiftly rescinded upon assuming office.
But the deeper implications of this decision, particularly for Africa, warrant serious reflection. When Gambian-born Fatou Bensouda held the reins as ICC prosecutor, she, too, found herself in Trump’s crosshairs, warned off like a trespasser in forbidden territory. The unwritten rule was clear: The ICC was a truncheon, meant for subduing leaders and warlords from so-called Third World nations, not a courtroom for scrutinizing the deeds of American and Israeli officials—nor those of any Western ally, unless, of course, they were adversaries like Russia. The hypocrisy reached new heights when Biden, who had decried Trump’s strong-arming of the ICC, eagerly cheered on the court’s arrest warrant for Russian President Vladimir Putin, issued by ICC prosecutor Karim Khan—an old friend and protégé of Essa Faal—for alleged war crimes in the Russo-Ukrainian war. That double standard remains the lifeblood of international justice as we know it.
Yet, my real concern lies closer to home—Africa’s unsettling habit of prosecuting its former leaders, often at the behest of Western powers, with figures like Reed Brody always lurking in the shadows. In The Gambia, despite relentless warnings against the neocolonial maneuvering that seeks to push President Adama Barrow into prosecuting former President Yahya Jammeh and members of his administration based on the highly flawed Truth, Reconciliation and Reparations Commission (TRRC) report, human rights activists continue their dogged campaign to see it implemented, brandishing the ever-present specter of Western-backed retribution.
Just recently, I put a question to a friend—one of the loudest advocates for prosecuting Jammeh and his associates through the much-hyped hybrid court. I asked him: Who would fund and set up this tribunal? With unshakable confidence, he assured me that the U.S. government would generously provide top-tier legal experts and bankroll the entire process “to ensure that former President Jammeh and his alleged accomplices do not escape justice.” That was before Trump reentered the Oval Office like a wrecking storm. Now, with the stroke of a pen, his administration has pulled the plug on multiple USAID projects, including the $150 million initially earmarked to support The Gambia’s hybrid court. In other words, the cavalry isn’t coming. No U.S. legal experts, no funding—just another abandoned promise in a long history of selective justice.
As the world stumbles and stammers in response to Trump’s seismic executive order of February 7, 2025—offering little more than superficial condemnations—our ever-indignant Gambian human rights activists will predictably redirect their outrage toward President Barrow’s administration, chastising it for failing to act swiftly while Biden was still at the helm. Perhaps even Biden himself remained blissfully oblivious to the unfolding crisis, distracted, no doubt, by Trump’s blistering denunciations of USAID’s endemic corruption.
It is an open secret that America maintains a selective memory when it comes to war crimes and crimes against humanity. The world conveniently turns a blind eye to the sins of past U.S. presidents—John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Dwight D. Eisenhower, and Gerald Ford during the bloody Vietnam War (1955–1971), and later, George W. Bush and Barack Obama during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars (2003–2021). Yet, when the accused are foreign leaders, the international community pounces with unbridled zeal, prosecuting them for even the flimsiest allegations, as if justice itself is a commodity America alone has the power to dispense.
In The Gambia’s case, even the vaunted International Criminal Court (ICC) found no basis to classify Yahya Jammeh’s rule as one of crimes against humanity. This isn’t speculation—it was stated publicly by none other than the former ICC prosecutor, Fatou Bum Bensouda. And yet, the double standard persists, exposing not just the hypocrisy of the West but also the opportunism of our homegrown “human rights champions,” a cohort of self-styled moral crusaders who wield impeccable English as their primary weapon but lack the substance to match their eloquence.
These individuals, both within The Gambia and abroad, have fashioned an entire career out of hounding Jammeh, zealously pressuring President Barrow’s government to implement the now-discredited TRRC recommendations. They masquerade as defenders of justice, but upon closer inspection, many are nothing more than opposition political activists armed with feeble arguments. Worse still, the majority have never held any meaningful position in government, yet they strut and preen as though they alone possess the blueprint for flawless governance.
Perhaps their relentless pursuit of relevance stems from a solid awareness of their own political and administrative insignificance. Clutching their polished English like a badge of honor, they seem to believe that waxing lyrical in well-structured essays and fiery speeches will etch their names into the annals of Gambian history. Unfortunately for them, their Bombastic pronouncements are lost on the vast majority of Gambians, who neither speak their language nor share their obsession with political grandstanding. And in a democracy, it is the people—not the most well-articulated activists—who decide what matters
Lt. Colonel Samsudeen Sarr is a former commander of the Gambia National Army, diplomat and author of several books.
