At its inception, Elska was not a political project nor was it intended to be. The publication was created simply out of a love for travel, photography, and meeting new people, especially other gay dudes. I wanted to invite readers on journeys with us, visiting various cities and getting to know the guys we meet there. It’s straightforward enough, but as soon as we could afford plane tickets to feature a city outside Europe (for our firth issue, Elska Taipei), politics entered the scene.

an image of Mir R, from ‘Elska 23 (Dhaka, Bangladesh)’

While I was very aware of a lack of visibility of Asian men in Western gay media, I wasn’t prepared for the amount of hate that some readers sent us when presented with an issue full of Asian men. “Sorry but I’m just not into Asians” was the common complaint, with one reader asking us to put his annual subscription on hold if we would publish another issue “full of Asians”. As a white man, although I don't have a clue what it feels like to be on the receiving end of racial prejudice, I know that such 'preference' is racism, and I know that I was angry. I could make a choice — to force an intentional white focus or to accept an entry into the realm of visibility politics. Ultimately I chose to stick to my original concept — to continue to travel the world, meet people, and present them to readers — but with a new voice in my head reminding me that sometimes people will get agitated if the places we go to include many people with a non-white complexion or non-Western culture.

an image of Toto S, from ‘Elska 05 (Taipei, Taiwan)’

We recently released the 23rd issue of Elska Magazine, this time set in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Choosing this destination was mainly due to wanting to return to South Asia since making our tenth issue (Elska Mumbai). We talked to men throughout the region but found a particular keenness from guys in Dhaka, particularly from some local LGBTQ activists who wanted more visibility for their community. So we decided to go for it.

After the publication of Elska Dhaka, we received more positive letters than for any issue yet, mainly applauding us for introducing them to people that other media tend to ignore. But we also received two angry letters, accusing us of putting "a white gaze on a brown people", essentially of exoticising and exploiting others for our gain. From their comments it was obvious that they had not actually read a copy of Elska Dhaka (certainly the first one hadn't since the letter came on the day of the issue's release, before any copies could have been delivered). While they have every right to be cautious and angry about the exoticsation of others, we were the wrong target.

an image of Uin L, from 'Elska 21 (Seoul, Korea)'

I spent a lot of years in academia, which included a specialisation in queer anthropology during my postgraduate days, and this affects my work in two key ways. Firstly, I see Elska more as research than as entertainment; secondly, I know that my own cultural background can affect outcomes, which means that I try my best to reduce its interference. This is why the men in Elska are all voluntary participants, avoiding coercion. This is why the stories they write are fully their own words, and why we don't ask for any particular topic or theme other than that the story can't be fiction. And this is also why any guy living in the city can be included, regardless of what he looks like or what story he wants to tell. The men you meet in any Elska issue should feel like a random sample from the community, with no one selected nor rejected.

I understand that this makes Elska unusual among many other magazines, and if you've not actually read a copy, you may draw conclusions and start pounding hate onto your keyboard. This is particularly the case if you've only read articles by other 'traditional' media writing about Elska, where they often use shallow clickbait headlines like, '10 Hot and Sexy Latin Men to Spice Up Your Life'. It kinda makes me want to vom, but all press is good press, right? In any case I leave it up to journalists to publish shocking and sensationalised pieces that will generate a lot of clicks, but that’s not what we do. All we're doing is providing a platform, the rest is up to the men we meet. Let them reveal their own bodies and voices, and let us just look and listen.

A look inside ‘Elska 23 (Dhaka, Bangladesh)’

Admittedly, I am perhaps making myself appear too disconnected from politics. I do genuinely believe that visibility has the power to erase -isms, like racism but also ageism, fattism, etc. and I'm happy to play a part in this. On a personal note, when I was a teenager growing up in a rather white suburban setting, I claimed to have a 'type', which was basically other white lads. But as I began to discover my love of travel, I began to meet other types of people. We hung out, we got to know each other, and sometimes physical attraction developed from emotional chemistry, and once that happened, physical attraction became instinctual. Like when I was eighteen and ended up sharing a room in a hostel with this gay Thai guy. Although my first impression was that he wasn't my 'type', we ended up having this amazing conversation and suddenly I forgot about my limits and just wanted to kiss him. And so I did, and instantly my previous prejudices eroded. I could have stayed in my bubble, but it seemed too boring, maybe even just wrong. The world is full of lovely people who we could be loving. So yes, if I do admit to having a political aim, it is the hope that Elska can help take readers out of their own bubbles and encourage them to be open and spread their love.

Liam Campbell is editor and chief photographer of Elska Magazine, a project that so far has introduced readers to various men in twenty-three cities around the world.