How the Magic High Commission operates makes no sense. Their supposed responsibility is to govern the laws of magic and maintain order in the multiverse, yet they’re shown to be corrupt—abusing their power to interfere in Mewni’s leadership, rewriting history, and bending rules whenever convenient. The Box of Truth exists precisely because even they aren’t above their own laws. But even that safeguard doesn’t stop them; they act without fear or accountability.
Each member holds immense power:
Hekapoo forged the Dimensional Scissors, used by countless beings to traverse the multiverse.
Omnitraxus Prime oversees space-time itself.
Rhombulus imprisons dangerous beings in crystal.
Lekmet presides over all magic.
Yet despite their godlike roles, they can be easily outsmarted or outright defeated by weaker beings, coming across more like fallible demi-gods than true cosmic authorities.
Their constant bickering only makes things worse. Like many mythological pantheons, they squabble endlessly, but unlike those myths, they lack a clear leader. Meetings quickly devolve into chaos, with Hekapoo and Rhombulus’ “immortal immaturity,” communication breakdowns with Omnitraxus, and Lekmet’s unintelligible speech (understood only by Rhombulus). Add hot-headed outsiders like Mina and Glossaryck, and the result is pure dysfunction.
To their credit, they don’t deliberately harm innocents. For example, when Rhombulus released Globgor expecting destruction, they still tried to prevent civilian casualties. They supported Mina and the Solarian coup under the belief Moon would keep things under control. Yet their celebrations as armored soldiers terrorized panicking villagers suggest their concern for innocents is questionable at best.
The Eclipsa plotline exposes their monopoly over magical justice. As Sean notes in Butterfly Trap, trials are rare because Rhombulus has free rein to crystalize anyone he deems dangerous, with only Lekmet occasionally checking his actions. When trials do occur, the Commission holds all the power—as Eclipsa’s trial shows, they can rule however they please. Fair gods would be admirable; corrupt ones are not.
They function as the closest thing to a governing authority in the multiverse, essentially a pantheon. Yet their focus is narrow, obsessed with Mewni’s internal politics, adopting its “Fantastic Racism” against monsters and irrational hatred of Eclipsa. With no checks or balances, Rhombulus can indefinitely imprison individuals based on gut feelings. Unlike mythic gods, they can actually be hurt, making their reckless behavior even dumber.
Despite being charged with running the universe and enforcing magical law, they’re nowhere near as powerful as their titles suggest. They’ve been beaten and strong-armed by forces like a half-wand-empowered, Toffee-possessed Ludo and even the Box of Truth. This is especially absurd in the case of Omnitraxus, who is supposed to embody space-time itself. Either the multiverse is smaller than implied, or someone else is really running things.
The Commission is clearly meant to be seen as divine rulers, and some characters in-universe treat them as such. But their methods are fallible, their personalities uncooperative, and their priorities misplaced. Their involvement in the conspiracy to erase Meteora and replace her with Festivia only underscores their corruption and indifference.
In the end, they’re less cosmic guardians and more uncaring gods.
