The family of former beauty queen Anastasia Lin have been continually threatened and prevented from traveling abroad because of Lin's decision to discuss Chinese human-rights issues.

Her family had visas to Hong Kong revoked and her father has had his passport canceled, while police also threaten them with persecution like during the Cultural Revolution.

Police also take fruit and flower baskets to visit Lin's grandparents regularly, in hopes of using them to persuade their granddaughter to be silent.

The families of human-rights activists, journalists, and persecuted ethnic minorities are frequently threatened and put in "re-education camps" in order to silence expats and exile relatives speaking about China overseas.



Anastasia Lin may never see her family in China again.

Shortly after winning the Miss World Canada title in 2015, Beijing deemed China-born Lin "persona non grata" — a powerful diplomatic term that effectively banned her from the country — because she was speaking out on the country's human-rights issues.

But more problematic than Lin's ability to enter China, is the difficulty her family have had trying to leave, which is being used as leverage to pressure the Chinese-Canadian actress and activist.

While in Australia earlier this year, Lin told Business Insider how her uncles and even elderly grandparents had their visas to Hong Kong revoked in 2016 in an attempt by authorities to silence Lin and punish her Hunan-based family.

"The day before I left, my mother told me that the police went into my grandparents home and took away their visa, their Hong Kong visa. These are 70 year-olds, and they took it away. They intercepted my uncle in the airport on his way to Macau, to Hong Kong," Lin said.

"My grandmother told me ... they took away the Hong Kong visa and they said very explicitly that it was because of my activities overseas and influence," she said. "Since then, my grandparents have been getting routine police visits."

Miss World Canada Anastasia Lin speaks during a news conference in Hong Kong, China November 27, 2015. REUTERS/Tyrone Siu

Lin's great-grandfather was executed in public during the Cultural Revolution "to warn the rest," according to Lin, and the fear from that time has returned for her grandparents who are now subject to regular house calls by authorities.

"Later on my grandmother told me that the visits sometimes are with fruit and flowers but it was for the purpose of persuading them to persuade me to do less, to not do anything, and to convince me to be on the opposite side," she said.

These weren't the first threats and police visits Lin's family received. Within weeks of winning her crown, security agents started threatening her father telling him that his daughter "cannot talk" about Chinese human-rights issues.

"My father sent me text message saying that they have contacted him telling him that if I continue to speak up, my family would be persecuted like in the Cultural Revolution. My father's generation grew up in the middle of Cultural Revolution, so for him it's the biggest threat you can make. It means you die, you get publicly persecuted," Lin said, adding that her father "begged" her for a way for the family to survive in China.

Lin said it's been a long time since she spoke to her father because their calls are monitored, but she learned recently his passport was rejected for renewal.

Lin is just one of many Chinese expats and exiles whose mainland relatives are used as leverage to try and control China's reputation abroad.

Business Insider has previously reported on how relatives are contacted to try and control what their adult children are posting on social media while they study at foreign universities. And ethnic minority Uighurs, Tibetans, and other human-rights activists who have faced persecution have frequently said their family members are used as leverage to try and control their actions and speech overseas, with some even being blackmailed into spying for the state.

Family members of five Radio Free Asia journalists, including two US citizens, were recently detained in an attempt to stop their reporting on human-rights abuses against Uighurs in the Xinjiang region. One of those journalists is Gulchehra Hoja, who had more than 20 relatives disappear all in one day, earlier this year.

"When I heard my brother was detained, I [initially] chose not to speak up because my mother asked me, 'Please I already lost you, I don't want to lose my son too," Hoja told a congressional hearing last week. "We don't want to put them in further danger because of our acts or any word against China."

"My family haven't been able to be reunited in 17 years," she added.

The fear of this happening is also an effective enough tool to self-censor criticism, even if family members aren't being directly threatened.

Square engineer Jackie Luo explained on Twitter what happened when last week the Chinese government closed down one of her mother's WeChat groups here people in China and abroad would send hundreds of messages a day talking about social issues.

"They asked the person who started the WeChat group to restart it. He lives in the US now. But he won’t; he’s afraid. He has relatives in China, and if the government is monitoring him, then it may well be unsafe. They understand. This social group of 136 people—it’s dead now," Luo wrote.

But when people choose to speak out, it can be harder for those still in China to understand.

"My grandpa [is] like, 'Well why don't you just give up, then you can come back?'" Lin said. "They think it's that easy because the Chinese Communist Party promised them that if I don't speak up, I will get to go back, but I know that's not the case. I know usually if you don't speak up you don't have any leverage. They will just kill your voice completely."