"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 unbeliever it
would have meant that Allah's sword had been broken by an enemy of Allah; and that
could never be."
Page 7
Khalid remained silent, and a few minutes later the friend took his leave. Khalid's head
could see the logic of what his visitor had said, but his heart still yearned for a glorious
death in combat. Why, oh why could he not have died a martyr in the way of Allah!
On the day of his death, Khalid's possessions consisted of nothing more than his armour
and weapons, his horse and one slave-the faithful Hamam. On his last day of life he lay
alone in bed with 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
sentence:
"I die even as a camel dies. I die in bed, in shame. The eyes of cowards do not
close even in sleep."
1
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Thus died Khalid, son of Al Waleed, the Sword of Allah. May Allah be pleased with
him!
The news of Khalid's death broke like a storm over Madinah. The women took to the
streets, led by the women of the Bani Makhzum, wailing and beating their breasts. Umar
had heard the sad news and now heard the sounds of wailing. He was deeply angered. On
his very first day as Caliph, he had given orders that here would be no wailing for
departed Muslims. And there was logic 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.
2
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 Caliph 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, widow of the Holy Prophet, was
weeping for the departed warrior.
3
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 Caliph.
"Over the likes of Abu Sulaiman weep
those who weep."
4
In Emessa, to the right of the Hama Road, stretches a large, well-tended garden which has
lawns studded with ornamental trees and flower beds and is traversed by footpaths. At the
top end of the garden stands the Mosque of Khalid bin Al Waleed. It is an imposing
mosque, with two tall minarets rising from its north-western and north-eastern corners.
The inside of the mosque is spacious, about 50 yards square, its floor covered with
carpets and the ceiling upheld by four massive columns. Each of the four corners of the
ceiling is formed as a dome, but the highest dome is in the centre, at a considerable
height, and from this dome several chandeliers are suspended by long metal chains. In the
north-west corner of the mosque stands Khalid's shrine-the last resting place of Abu
Sulaiman.
The visitor walks up the garden, crosses the courtyard of the mosque, takes off his shoes
and enters the portals. As he enters, he sees to his right the shrine of Khalid. The actual
grave is enveloped by an attractive domed marble structure which gives the impression of
a little mosque within the larger one. The visitor, if so inclined, says a prayer and then
loses himself in contemplation of the only man who ever carried the title of the Sword of
Allah.
And if the visitor knows something about Khalid and his military achievements, he lets
his imagination wander and pictures of an attack by Khalid flicker through his mind. He
sees a long, dark line of horsemen emerge from behind a rise in the ground and charge
galloping at a body of Roman troops. The cloaks of the warriors fly behind them and the
hooves of their horses pound the earth pitilessly. Some carry lances; others brandish
swords; and the Romans standing in the path of the charge tremble at the sight of the
oncoming terror, for they are standing in the way of the Mobile Guard, whom none may
resist and survive to tell the tale. The line of charging horsemen is not straight, for it is
impossible to keep it straight at such a mad, reckless pace. Every man strives to get ahead
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of his comrades and be the first to clash with the infidel; strives to get ahead of all but the
Leader, for no one may, or possibly could, overtake the Leader.
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