Sound like double trouble? Over-employment? The latest synagogue sitcom? Probably; but Jewish history is never probable.
We started that way. Moses could not, would not, lead alone; Aaron had to be there. Moses' older brother never was quite his associate rabbi. Aaron was vastly more popular. He was the nice guy: arbitrator in congregants' business disputes, mediator in spousal clashes, peacemaker in sisterly spats, and conciliator for anyone with a teenager at home. Mr. Nice.
Moshe was more the patrician than the paternal. The teacher, not the counselor; the lawgiver, not the therapist. Mr. (sorry relativists and wannabe brides) Right.
Moshe embodied truth; Aaron embraced peace. Truth demands integrity; peace requires compromise. Torah insists on both, hence a team - not an individual - was needed for the making of a people.
Moshe rarely enjoyed public support; his method, qualifications, and integrity were regularly challenged; accusations of nepotism drained him. Aaron was rarely taken to task, and then only because of his association with you-know-who.
The brothers' disparity did not end with their deaths; the turnout at Aaron's funeral nearly doubled Moshe's.
But significantly, it was only upon Moshe's passing that despair threatened the people. Aaron's popularity rewarded him with a large funeral, Moshe's instruction earned him the role of leader. Aaron's passing evoked mourning; Moshe's passing created a terrifying void. Like money, you appreciate leadership when you lose it.
We need Aaron and we need Moshe. One without the other creates imbalance. If we favor peace over truth because peace makes allowances and truth makes demands, we'll get neither. It might not play well in the sitcoms, but Jewish legacy is no sitcom.
ב"ה