Irfan Khan: A Photojournalist of Par Excellence

On a crisp February morning in 2024, Irfan Khan walked away from the Los Angeles Times newsroom for the final time. After more than three decades as a staff photographer—and many more years before that as a freelancer—he closed one chapter of his life. But the images, the moments he had captured, would continue to speak of his journey: a journey defined by dedication, compassion, faith, and the power of light and shadow.

Irfan Khan was born in Pakistan. Young and ambitious, he first picked up a camera as a way to see the world—and to help others see things often overlooked. By 1973, he was working as a commercial photographer in Pakistan, honing his skills and experimenting with light, shadow, and composition.

A few years later, his curiosity and dreams carried him beyond his homeland. In 1977, he moved to Dubai, where he found work with an advertising agency and with an English-language newspaper. Dubai, then rapidly transforming and growing, became a bridge for him: between cultures, between stories seen and unseen. There, he learned to sharpen not only his technical skills but also his sense of what a photograph can do: to move hearts, to tell the truth, to hold people accountable.

Crossing Oceans: Arriving at The Los Angeles Times

In the late 1980s, Irfan began working with the Los Angeles Times as a freelancer. He captured local stories, international assignments, religious pilgrimage, disaster, jubilation, grief—a panorama of human life. In 1996, the Times offered him a full-time position. For the next twenty-eight years, until 2024, he would serve as one of its core photographers, witnessing and recording the transformations of Southern California and beyond.

Over those years, he photographed events great and small. Election rallies, forest fires, earthquakes; scenes of daily life and crisis; both ends of the spectrum. He also traveled, sometimes into danger: to the border zones of Pakistan and Afghanistan after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks; to Saudi Arabia to document the annual Hajj; and across the U.S. to tell stories of culture, migration, faith, and identity.

One of the most vivid memories Irfan shared was of the San Bernardino terrorist attack in 2015. He was part of the Times team that won the Pulitzer Prize for Breaking News Reporting for their work covering that tragedy. The speed, the chaos, the fear, and the grief, he captured them. But he also sought moments of dignity in the midst of horror. Moments that said, “We will remember. We will not be broken.”

Another story Irfan often retold in 2021, he was honored with the Distinguished Journalist Award by the Society of Professional Journalists in Greater Los Angeles. He had been assigned to cover jets flying through Rainbow Canyon in Death Valley—a beautiful but challenging shoot. He waited hours, fought with technical limitations, battled wind, daylight, and composition. At one point, he nearly missed a perfect shot because he stepped away. But then another jet came. The lighting, the setting, the people in view—it all aligned. That photo ran on the front page. It was one of those rare hours when patience, preparation, and instinct converge.

He also documented the coronavirus pandemic from intimate angles: inside intensive care units, crematoria, the masked and the vulnerable. His work during those dark months revealed not only suffering but also hope, resilience, and the weight of human lives navigating crisis.

As Irfan Khan’s career grew, so did his responsibilities—and the tug of two worlds. He built a life in America, but his Pakistani heritage, his Muslim faith, and the memories of family back home remained central to everything he did. His faith shaped how he saw the people he photographed—not merely as subjects, but as fellow travelers in a wider human journey.

He often spoke of gratitude: to God, to his parents, to the land that welcomed him. He believed that no effort was wasted when driven by integrity, compassion, and service. That belief carried him through nights in war zones, through grief and danger, and through moments of tremendous joy when an image resonates with someone halfway across the world.

When Irfan Khan officially retired in early 2024, his departure was felt not just by a newspaper but by many communities. He had chronicled things that matter: the ups and downs of the immigrant experience, the beauty in religious rituals, the disasters that test us, the celebrations that heal us. His lens had been a bridge between worlds: between cultures, faiths, and everyday people.

His work has taught us that photojournalism is more than exposure—it is empathy. His storytelling has demonstrated that an image can preserve the dignity of someone in distress, highlight the forgotten, challenge assumptions, and remind us of our shared humanity.

His visit to Makkah for live coverage of the Hajj, the great Muslim festival, was a landmark in his career. It was a significant achievement of American journalism. He was one of the few American journalists who, in addition to performing the pilgrimage, brought his best to the American readers. Through his lens, America saw pictures of one of the world's most significant religious events. He maintained a balance between his faith and profession.

Each of his stills was a piece of art and a living depiction of reality. His work is a masterpiece of capturing people's feelings and the spirit of the occasion.

He spent seven weeks on the Afghanistan and Pakistan borders, covering the fast-changing events in the war zone after 9/11. Risking his life, he was able to capture the living history of the time. He visited China at the invitation of Chinese Americans to photograph the everyday life of their country.

His digitization of life in China is available in the form of a hard-bound book with mesmerizing pictures.

In his spare time, he enjoys listening to semi-classical music from the Indian subcontinent and playing cricket, South Asia's most popular sport, on Sundays.

He is a Muslim pioneer who served his newly adopted country and the world audience through the skills under the inspiration of his father. He attributes his work and energy to his parents and consistently shows his gratitude to God Almighty, as well as to the country that has offered him opportunities.