Arendt isn't merely observing that revolutionaries grow comfortable once they've won—she's identifying something far more troubling: that the very act of seizing power fundamentally transforms one's relationship to change itself. The person who yesterday demanded the world be remade discovers that they now have an interest in keeping things as they've just arranged them, not out of hypocrisy but because holding power requires defending it. We see this in every successful uprising, from the French Revolution to recent populist movements, where yesterday's insurgents become today's gatekeepers, suddenly invoking "stability" and "tradition" with an earnestness that would have appalled their younger selves. The tragedy is that this isn't a character flaw—it's structural, built into what power actually does to the human beings who wield it.