THE SWORD OF ALLAH: THE DEATH OF KHALID IBN WALEED.

Some time in 642 (21 Hijri), at the age of 58, Khalid Bin Waleed, The Sword of Allah, fell ill. The nature of his illness is unknown, but it was a protracted one and drained him of all his strength.

As with all strong, active men upon whom an inactive retirement is suddenly thrust, Khalid's health and frame had declined rapidly. This last illness proved too much for him; and Khalid's sick bed became his death bed.

He lay in bed, impatient and rebellious against a fate which had robbed him of a glorious, violent death in battle. All his life he had wanted to be among the martyrs who gave their lives fighting for Islam. Knowing that he had not long to live, it irked him to await death in bed

A few days earlier, he had been paid a visit by an old friend. Khalid lifted the covering from his right leg and said to his friend, "Do you see a space of the span of a hand on my leg which is not covered by some scar of the wound of a sword or an arrow or a lance?"

The friend observed Khalid's leg and confessed that he did not. Khalid raised the cover from his left leg and repeated his question. Again the friend agreed that between the wounds furthest apart the space was less than a hand's span.

Khalid raised his right arm and then his left, for a similar examination and with a similar result. Next he bared his great chest, now devoid of most of its mighty sinews,

..and here again the friend was met with a sight which made him wonder how a man wounded in so many places had managed to survive.

He again admitted that he could not see the space of one hand span of unblemished skin.

Khalid had made his point. "Do you not see?" he asked impatiently. "I have sought martyrdom in a hundred battles. Why could I not have died in battle?"

"You could not die in battle", replied the friend.

"Why not?"

"You must understand, O Khalid," the friend explained, "that when the Messenger of Allah, on whom be the blessings of Allah and peace, named you Sword of Allah, he predetermined that you would not fall in battle.

If you had been killed by an infidel it would have meant that Allah's sword had been broken by an enemy of Allah; and that could never be."

Khalid remained silent, and a short while later the friend took his leave. Khalid's head could see the logic of what his visitor had said, but his heart still craved a glorious death in combat.

Why, oh why could he not have died a martyr in the way of Allah!
On his last day he lay alone in bed with his servant Hamam sitting in patient sorrow beside his illustrious master.

As the shadows gathered, Khalid put all the torment of his soul into one last, anguished statement: "There is not a month or a year that passed without a battle that I fought for the sake of Allah. There is hardly a spot in my body that there is not a scar from the battlefield.

And yet here I die in my bed, in shame, as if I have never witnessed battle before. May the eyes of the cowards never rest!"

The news of Khalid's passing broke like a storm over the city of Madinah. The women took to the streets, led by the women of the Bani Makhzum, Khalid’s clan, wailing and beating their chests. Umar (RA) had heard the sad news and now heard the sounds of wailing.

On his very first day as Khalifah, he had given orders that here would be no wailing for departed Muslims. And there was reasoning in Umar's point of view. Why should we weep for those who have gone to paradise? The blissful abode promised by Allah to the Faithful!

Umar had enforced the order, at times using his whip. Umar now heard sounds of wailing. He stood up from the floor of his room, took his whip and made for the door. He would not permit disobedience of his orders; the wailing must be stopped at once!

He got to the door, but there he paused. For a few silent moments the Khalifah stood in the doorway, lost in thought. This was, after all, no ordinary death; this was the passing away of Khalid bin Al Waleed.

Then he heard the sounds of mourning from the next house- his own daughter, Hafsa, the widow of the Holy Prophet, was weeping for the departed warrior. Umar turned back. He hung up his whip and sat down again.

In this one case he would make an exception. "Let the women of the Bani Makhzum say what they will about Abu Sulaiman, for they do not lie", said the Khalifah. "Over the likes of Abu Sulaiman weep those who weep."

Finally, the body of the hero left his home carried on the shoulders of his companions. Khalid’s mother took one last look at his face, her eyes full of resolve marked with sadness as she said:

“Do you ask me about his valour? He was much more courageous than a huge lion that protects its cubs in the time of danger. Do you ask me about his generousity? He was far more generous than an overwhelming torrential rain that slides down the mountains.”

Umar’s heart throbbed and his eyes flowed with tears when he heard her recite these lines: “You spoke the truth. By Allah, he was everything you said he was.”

The hero was buried. His companions stood at his grave in reverence. They felt that the whole universe was so peaceful, humble, and silent that it seemed as if the whole world went into mourning.

Worthy of note is the sweet elegy with which Umar paid his last farewell to Khalid: May Allah have mercy on you, Abu Sulaimaan. What you have now is far better than what you had in life, for you are now with Allah. You were honoured in life and content in death.