'Guantanamo: Honor Bound to Defend Freedom," a play that opened in New York this week, tells the stories of three families sucked into the undertow of America's response to Sept. 11.

It's about Beshar al-Rawi, Jamal al-Harith and Moazzam Begg, all Muslims and citizens or residents of Great Britain, who wound up imprisoned on the U.S. naval base at Guantanamo Bay. The prison there was assigned during the post-9/11 war with Afghanistan to house anyone suspected of aiding and abetting al-Qaida or engaging in terrorist plots against the United States.

The Bush administration chose Guantanamo Bay because, while it's controlled by our military, it's off American soil. It was intended to be a legal black hole, where detainees would be beyond the reach of U.S. law. And because they were designated enemy combatants instead of prisoners of war, they'd be beyond the protection of international laws governing the treatment of soldiers.

Al-Rawi went to Gambia with his brother to start a business, and was detained by the Gambian Secret Service and by Americans claiming to be working for the embassy there. Al-Harith went on a religious journey to Pakistan, and wound up being kidnapped by the Taliban. When the Taliban fell, he was handed over to the Red Cross and then to the U.S. military.

Begg went to Afghanistan with his family to start a school and build wells. When the American bombings began, they moved to Pakistan, where, in 2002, he was arrested and his motives questioned.

All three wound up at Guantanamo Bay, where they remained for more than 2 1/2 years under severe restrictions, often in chains, without lawyers, with little communication with their families, and without being told what they were accused of.

Al-Harith was finally released in March, without charges. Al-Rawi and Begg are still there. The impact on the men and their families has been devastating, and Begg is believed to have become mentally ill as a result of his confinement.

The play's account of these real, ordinary people being drawn into this black hole indefinitely and its impact on their families is a true horror story. Especially chilling is the way other countries - Gambia, Pakistan, Great Britain - bowed to the wishes of the United States in treating these men as criminals.

In times of war or national crisis, governments often overreact, suspending civil liberties and passing laws that are far more draconian than the situation requires. Since Sept. 11, hundreds of law-abiding people have been swept up in the search for terrorists, many of them disappearing into Guantanamo Bay, where they've been beyond the reach of anyone except the military.

Some Americans write off this treatment as a necessary evil in the war against terror. But the play reminds us that we would never condone for ourselves or our loved ones the kind of treatment we have condoned for people who happen to be Muslims.

At their convention next week, Republicans, like the Democrats in Boston, will wax on about American values and democracy and their desire to export them to the rest of the world. But if we trample lives in this way, what do we stand for?

The Supreme Court has ruled that the Guantanamo Bay prisoners are entitled to military trials or to hearings to determine if there are any valid charges against them. About 20 hearings have been held so far, including one this week where Salim Hamdan, Osama bin Laden's driver, was charged with engaging in terrorism. These hearings lack impartiality, since the military is the judge, the prosecutor and the jury. But they're better than nothing.

If there's any evidence against Begg and al-Rawi, the government should present it, charge them and try them. The legal abuses of Guantanamo Bay, like the physical and emotional abuses at Abu Ghraib, are war crimes that can't be written off as necessary to keep us safe.

Copyright © 2004, Newsday, Inc.

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