The former prime minister, Paul Keating has never done an interview quite like this one with Troy Bramston, bestselling/award-winning author and biographer of Prime Ministers Paul Keating, RG Menzies, Bob Hawke, Gough Whitlam.

Paul Keating is seated on a chair in the middle of his office in Potts Point, Sydney. It is not just any chair. It is from the Palace of the Tuileries in Paris, in the period when Napoleon Bonaparte was the First Consul of France. His arms rest on carved wooden griffons with lion heads and he relaxes into a soft cushion of horsehair. Keating ­purchased the chair last year. (The French Government’s Mobilier National, ­attached to the Ministry of ­Culture, had an ­option to acquire the chair but didn’t exercise it). When I arrived at the ­office with ­photographer Nick Cubbin, the chair was ­already in place, isolated from everything else, set against a red-walled backdrop. It is a striking example of French neoclassicism, which draws on ancient Greek, Roman, and Egyptian design, and expresses a philosophy of human progress with a moral and an aesthetic order, and the quest for innate beauty.

When talking about the chair and why he purchased it, Keating made the following statement which reveals a great deal about what motivates him:

“The Directoire and to a greater extent the Consulat are the periods of consolidation of the French Revolution – the event that changed all civil life going forward. The lives we all lead today, our liberty and equality, come from that time, that moment. This has always anchored my interest in the ­period. Otherwise, you would have been subservient to some monarch ‘appointed by God’ and by a Church that serviced God by collaborating with the monarch. Had you been an ­ordinary person, your life would have been wickedly subordinate, the next thing to being a non-person.”

Newly researched documentation on the bloodthirsty Reign of Terror that swept through France in 1793-1794, personified by Robespierre and the Angel of Terror, Saint Just, clearly indicates the high price paid by France for a revolution that brought havoc and thousands of deaths to the French nation. Perhaps one of the best examples is the massacre, better called the genocide, of La Vendée.  General François Westerman of the revolutionary army claimed with pride that, in his efforts to crush the rebellion of the Vendéens, carried out against the abuses and crimes of the Convention, he ordered, by the decree of August 2, 1793, the systematic destruction and burning of the entire countryside, including all crops and the mass assassination of all rebels in sight.

Can we call the massacre at La Vendée a genocide?  The term was used in 1944 to describe the horrors of the holocaust and the drama experienced by the Jews under Nazism. If we relate the number of men women and children slaughtered by the revolutionary army under the banner of liberté, égalité, and fraternité with the total population of France’s western provinces, the number is even higher than what the Jews had to suffer under the inhuman policy of Hitler’s National Socialism. In both cases, there was a deliberate will of extermination.

The French Revolution reveals the titanic struggle between good and evil. Among the first targets of the fury of the revolutionaries, following the dictates of many of the so-called philosophes, were the contemplative religious communities. The blood of innocent people lost in the years 1792-1794 staggers the imagination. The campaign against the Church was as much diabolical as cruel.

The Church before the French Revolution is often represented as having failed to produce the goodness and holiness that is preached in the Gospel. It cannot be denied that there were serious failures among the Catholic bishops and high hierarchical leaders. However, it is also true that many devoted priests and nuns were totally dedicated to a life of prayer and works of charity, who gave up their lives for the faith they professed.

Keating believes that the French Revolution was the greatest event in human history as did Voltaire, Diderot and Baroon de Hobach.

“Every sensible man, every honorable man must hold the Christian religion in horror.” –Voltaire

“Man will never be free until the last king is strangled with the entrails of the last priest.” –Diderot

“Religion has ever filled the mind of man with darkness and kept him in ignorance of the real duties of true interests. It is only by dispelling these clouds and phantoms of religion, that we shall discover Truth, Reason, and Morality. Religion diverts us from the causes of evil, and from the remedies which nature prescribes; far from curing, it only aggravates, multiplies and perpetuates them.” –Baron de Holbach

What does Keating say about himself? “I’m definitely an aesthete,” Keating says. “That’s my whole thing. I’ve been an aesthete since I was a boy.” (aesthete: a person who has or affects a highly developed appreciation of beauty, especially in poetry and the visual arts). It shaped his conception of “big picture” style leadership and the attendant dreams of audacious statecraft. He often says leadership is founded on imagination and must be matched with courage. “You must have the imagination,” he insists. “Imagination is everything.” To envision a better future, you need a nourishment of the mind.

“Where does the spiritual uplift come from?” Keating asks. “Well, I think it comes from the inner life … you need the bubbling cauldron. Without the ­bubbling cauldron, you can never get the rise. Without the rise, you just do ordinary stuff. But then who wants to do ordinary stuff?”

What does he mean “without the bubbling cauldron you never get the rise”. What nonsense, perhaps he should have gone to university after all. “Not going to university, Keating argues, freed his mind. He sought intellectual nourishment by indulging personal interests“

Keating explained that the task of the reformer is to combine imagination with indignation. It demands political battle. “What others would call the warrior statesman,” Keating explains. “Most of these people in history, whether it’s Alexander the Great or whoever were in the business of blood and gore, you know? And in politics, I was in the blood and gore business, fundamentally. But with big ideas always running it.” Winning debates in parliament, putting the blowtorch to opponents in interviews, and slashing attacks on the campaign trail – it was about establishing political hegemony and ­policy authority. “Why do you throw Liberals around like rag dolls?” he asks. “Apart from the fun of it, the importance of it is for the betterment of the economy and society.”

Noting he is “fundamentally a romantic”, led him to an exploration of romanticism in culture. I always inhabited both camps, neoclassicism, and romanticism. ­Neoclassicism with and for its enlightenment ideals, its devotion to reason and perfectionism – much of which informed my calibrated ­approach to economic policy. [And] romanticism opened the yawning vistas of life replete with emotions that cram the human experience – which music goes out of its way to both join and to satisfy. I think I can claim, without refute, that you are much better with both. The culture of reason vying with the culture of feeling. Nevertheless, both share a common ideal: beauty. For as Stendhal said, ‘beauty is the promise of happiness’. I believe this to be true and have believed so always.”

Nowhere in the interview do they get into our origins, religion, meaning, and purpose of life.